Solo Trip

A/N:This was a request from the lovely @pzb2006​ who asked for an imagine about a girl names Paris who was in Italy while Harry was shooting for his Golden music video and he wanted her number.

Thank you so much for your patience, and I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings:None

Word Count: 3,874

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Paris was never a particularly adventurous girl, she always wished to be and fantasized about a life of excitement and travel, but she was sure she would be doomed to boredom for the rest of her life. Nothing exciting ever happened to her. It was like she lived her life like the movie Groundhog Day, the same day repeating over and over and over. She was sick of it. And it was on her eleventh straight day of eating the same, boring old cereal for breakfast when she decided she needed a change.

Immediately, she began to do research. At first, she was thinking of something more local; maybe a trip to the city, or the beach. Then she started to broaden her search. Maybe something on the opposite coast. That could be exciting. But, then she paused. If she was going to go on an adventure, she wanted to make it big. She decided to explore the idea of another country. There were so many to choose from. Africa always sounded interesting Then there was Greece; she’s wanted to go there since she was little and watched Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. And, of course, there was Paris, the city of which she was named after. The City of Light.

But only one country stood out to her. Italy. She found herself constantly circling back to Italy, imagining herself strolling along the Amalfi coast and having lunch, alone, in the park. Meeting some mysterious and handsome Italian boy in the shops along the cobblestone. Relaxing alone along the shoreline, watching the sunset. It sounded like a dream. And finally, she booked a flight for her week-long vacation.

Paris spent the first day exploring the ruins of Pompeii and getting warped into the history of the city. She spent the second day at the beaches of Sorrento, letting the sun kiss her skin and the calming water rinse her of her worries. On the third day, she woke up energized, excited for her full day ahead. Paris enjoyed waking up knowing there was no set-schedule, nowhere she had to be at a certain time. She could do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

In the morning, she took a stroll from her Airbnb to a little coffee shop down the street, deciding to have her little pastry and coffee outside on the patio, again, letting the warmth of the sunshine on her face. She stayed there for an hour, watching the locals walk by, smiling and laughing at each other. Everyone here seemed to be full of life and love; they all seemed genuinely happy. And, at this moment, so was she.

After breakfast, she decided to walk around some more. She visited shop after shop, never buying anything, but making mental notes on shops she wanted to return to before leaving to grab a few souvenirs. Finally, she ended up in a quaint, local grocery shop. Paris had every intention of just grabbing a few things to make back at her Airbnb, but when she saw the picnic basket, her plans changed. She wanted to have a picnic at the park across the street from where she was staying. It was the whole reason she booked it in the first place. It was large and spacious with beautiful cyprus and fruit trees scattered about, overlooking the ocean. And from what she could tell, hardly anyone ever went there. It sounded heavenly.

She went about the grocery store picking up way too much food for one person. How could she not? Everything looked so much better in Italy. Strawberries, a sandwich, pastries, soft pretzels, cookies, and two bottles of water. There was no way she’d be able to eat everything, but she’d sure give it her best shot. But first, she needed to stop by her place. Although it was warm, she thought it would be a good idea to grab a light sweater, just in case. Besides, there was a book in her luggage that she fancied a read, and this would be the perfect opportunity.

Her stomach grumbled when she finally got through the door of her lodgings. ****** Better make this quick, she thought, ******* I’m starving. She set everything down on the dining room table as she hurriedly rummaged through her belongings for a sweater and her book. She upturned everything, unsure of where they were when she remembered leaving them both out on the balcony the night before. As soon as she grabbed it, she flung her sweater over her shoulder, palmed the book, and shoved a pair of sunglasses on top of her head before rushing in, grabbing the picnic basket full of food, and heading out the door.

Paris fast-walked down the cobblestone hill, hiking the sweater that was slipping down her one shoulder while trying to carry the heavy basket and book with both hands as her sunglasses wobbled further down her head, practically sitting on her forehead, now. There was a crowd of mostly girls lining the road at the end of the street, all looking in one direction. ***** Maybe there’s a parade, she thought to herself as she neared, closer.

There was no time to stop and watch, the basket was getting heavier and she was certain she would burst if she didn’t get food in her soon. As she reached the crowd of girls, she noticed a red convertible mustang drive past with people hanging out the back and sides of it. The girls began to scream and jump up and down. Paris tried to look over the heads of the girls, but couldn’t see anyone else coming and figured it was a good opportunity to cross the road.

She squeezed through the crowd but was grabbed at and bumped by the girls, making her sunglasses fall lopsided over her face, tripping off of the curb and sending her book and picnic basket crashing to the ground, her food, which was thankfully wrapped, spread across the road. Hurriedly, she bent down, pushing her sunglasses back and attempting to collect all of her things as gasps, screams, and incoherent Italian babbling sounded behind her, not wanting to be in the way of the parade when it eventually made its way to her when a shadow blocked the sun from her eyes and a large, veiny hand held out her book.

“Are you alright?” she heard a deep, soft voice speak in clear English.

Paris tilted her head up and squinted, freezing for a moment as the condensation from her cold bottle of water trickled down her hand and onto the pavement. Suddenly the line of giddy girls made sense. It wasn’t a parade, it was Harry Styles. Quickly, Paris got to her feet, grabbing the red bound book from his grasp as she tucked hair behind her ear.

“I’m so sorry, I thought it was a parade. My sunglasses fell off my head and I couldn’t see and I tripped off the sidewalk, I’ll probably have to throw out my cookie,” Paris trailed until she heard Harry chuckled and put a warm hand on her shoulder which made her stop. She hadn’t realized until then that he was panting and a little sweaty, but his curls were still perfectly intact.

“No worries,” he reassured her, “Let me help.”

He bent down with her to collect her things as girls just stood back, giggling, and taking pictures. Harry did his best to entertain them, saying hello and responding quickly to things they shouted out like ‘how are you?’ and ‘I love you’ all while carefully placing her sweets and food back in her picnic basket.

When they had gotten the last soft pretzel in, Harry took hold of the basket and stood up, “I’ve got it,” he offered, giving her a nod that made her know that it was okay for her to follow him.

He waved goodbye to the girls that stood off to the side of the road and slowly walked down the middle of the street where, just yards away, that red mustang was idling with several men and a camera strapped to the back of it waited. He held a hand up with his finger waving to signal that he just needed a minute as he helped her cross the street.

“There’s a lot of food on this. Is it just you?” he asked.

Paris blushed, shoving her glasses back on top of her head, “Yeah. My eyes are bigger than my stomach.”

He chuckled again, stepping up on the curb, “You’re not from around here?”

She shook her head, “No, I’m from the states. Just needed to get away for a bit, so I took a solo trip. It’s my first time here.”

His eyebrows raised, pursing his lips in intrigue, “I took a solo trip once. Probably one of the best vacations I’ve ever been on.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to feel that way,” she bit her lip to hide her smile, looking down at her feet. Her butterflies were going berserk, trying to figure out if this was real, or not.

Harry smiled, looking down at her as they slowly walked down the sidewalk, side by side. She was quite beautiful, with soft skin and a bright smile, and her eyes reflected the light in a way that reminded him of stained glass. He nudged her a little, joking, “Don’t look down. That’s how you tripped in the first place.”

She let out a breathy laugh, looking up at him, “I think I’m just inherently clumsy.”

He grinned, keeping his eyes on her as they walked before he realized that he probably shouldn’t stare and looked straight ahead, asking, “So where are you headed with all this food?”

She nodded her head and pointed a little further ahead at the path that led into the park, “Just in there. Was going to find a tree to sit under for some shade and have some lunch.”

“Ah. Lunch and a view,” he noticed the sea waves crashing into the coast just below the cliffs, “Sounds wonderful,” he stopped as they reached the path, looking down at the basket with food, “Well, save me a pastry. In case I see you again,” he handed the basket over to her.

She giggled, taking it from him and heaving it into the crook of her arm, “Thanks. Sorry again. Have fun doing…..whatever it is you’re doing,” she motioned to the mustang.

He laughed, walking backward and waving, “I’ll try. Bye, it was nice meeting you!”

With a tight-lipped grin, she nodded, watched for a second longer, and turned to make her way down the path. But with the loud, echoing sound of his voice, she heard him yell, “Wait! What’s your name?”

She turned, laughing, and shouting, “Paris!”

“Paris,” she barely heard him repeat as his smile widened toothily and he shouted back, “See you later, Paris! Don’t forget! I want that pastry!” And with one last wave, he took off down the street, running as his puffy white top flowed and rippled behind him.”

A few girls ran up to her right after he left and asked her what he said, but there wasn’t much to tell. When they realized she didn’t have much information, they all stuck around for about an hour longer, waiting, in hopes that he’d come back. And as she ate her lunch, even she found herself looking around for any signs of him. After a while, she realized he probably wasn’t going to be back and attempted to read her book, but it was next to impossible to focus on any of the words after that.

The girls eventually left and Paris was one of the few people left in the area, leaning against the tree, picking at the strawberries beside her, book unread and open on her lap as she stared out at the ocean. She could hear a little dog barking in the distance, birds tweeting as they swirled in the air, the rustling of leaves as the ocean air blew through them, and the soft sounds of waves crashing against the shore. She had never been so relaxed before in her life.

She must have zoned out and been there for hours because by the time she came-to and something was trying to get her attention, it looked as though the sun would be starting to set shortly. Her name was being called, echoing somewhere behind her. She straightened up, hearing the ruffling of feet against the grass and twigs, turning, only to see Harry Styles making his way over in a hoodie, shades, and carrying a lump of fabric.

He smiled when they made eye contact, and as they approached, he held up the lump of blue and white fabric in his hands. “Blanket. Noticed you didn’t have one earlier and didn’t trust it to not be muddy.”

Paris smiled, standing up and moving out of the way so that he could lay the blanket out. And with a shake, he spread it out evenly on the first try.

“Was hoping you’d still be here,” Harry admitted, sitting down on one side of the blanket with a grunt, “I was afraid I wouldn’t make it in time.”

Paris blushed, reaching into the picnic basket and pulling out the now-cold pastry, “Couldn’t leave you hangin’.”

Harry’s eyes lit up, taking hold of the pastry and ripping a piece off, handing it to her before taking a bite. Moaning, he muttered, “These are my favorite pastries here. Still good, even if it’s been sitting out for hours.”

She smiled, staring at him in wonder. How was this happening? Why was this happening? She relaxed her shoulders, leaning back against the tree with her legs stretched in front of her, shoes off as they had been for hours now, looking down at both of their feet with the sea landscape before them.

“So, why are ***** you here?” Paris asked, turning to him, “I mean, clearly you’re not here on a solo vacation.”

He smiled, taking the last bite of his pastry and swallowing it down, “I’m shooting a music video.”

Paris nodded, trying to hold back a smile, and reaching for the spare bottle of water to offer him, “Makes sense. All the cameras, and the unnecessary running down the street in puffy white shirts.”

Harry chuckled, taking hold of the water, “Well, why are ***** you here? You said you needed to get away? What from?”

Paris shrugged, letting her head fall back on the tree and picking at the strawberries again, “It was just getting boring. I was living the same day on repeat for months, it seems. The same boring desk job, the same boring town, with the same boring people. I just needed to get out of there for a little before I went stir-crazy.”

Harry nodded, understandingly, “I’ve been on the go for so long that it’s almost impossible to stay still for too long. Sometimes it’s nice to sit and do nothing somewhere **** else. Somewhere that’s not home.”

Paris twisted her head in his direction to see he was sitting just like her, their shoulders touching. They didn’t say anything, but their eyes seemed to share the same understanding. It was so easy to be caught up in day-to-day life; doing what you’re told and switching to autopilot just to get through it. But it was times like these that made you sit back and just enjoy life for what it is and what it could be; beautiful.

Harry watched as a soft, closed smile stretched across Paris’ face and he felt his stomach start to do flips. This was new to him. He had never been so forward before. Sure, he’s gone back to places in hopes to get a girl’s number. But he’s never felt this inclined to stay and talk. Heck, they could sit there in silence, for all he cared. But something about her seemed to make his stress vanish.

He suddenly didn’t have to worry about waking up at the ass crack of dawn to continue shooting, he didn’t have to worry about the twelve-or-so people back at the rental who was probably waiting for him to get back or the dozens of emails he needed to respond to. He didn’t need to worry about the multiple contracts that still needed his revision and approval, and the legal battles he was in the middle of, and he didn’t have to worry about being seen by fans. Who cared? They weren’t important. This was. Sitting on a blanket, underneath a bug-infested tree, watching the sunset over the sea with a stranger.

They chatted for an hour about life and goals. Harry was a dreamer, and so was she. There were many things they wanted to do or accomplish, some much bigger than others. But, it seemed as though there was always something getting in the way. Paris wanted to get out of her small town and travel more. She couldn’t do it often; finances and lack of time off from work made it difficult, but if this trip taught her anything, it was that she needed to take time for herself.

Harry, on the other hand, wanted to do so much more with his time in the way of helping out any way he can. Wanting to volunteer to help out on trips to third-world countries and set up his own charities to help those less fortunate. Paris wasn’t exactly surprised by all of this, but still found it refreshing to hear his passion for it. It truly was something so heartwarming.

“How much longer are you here for, Paris?” he asked, digging into the container of strawberries that Paris had set between them.

Paris set the leafy bit of her strawberry on the container’s lid while she swallowed her food and muttered, “Three more days,” clearing her throat and turning her head to his she frowned, “Not nearly long enough.”

He nodded, solemnly, “It’s never long enough here. Funny, though. I leave in three days.”

“Yeah? What are you doing for the rest of your trip?”

“Well, I’ve got to finish shooting this music video, but I’ve got nothing planned tomorrow night. If you’re not busy, maybe I can treat you to dinner? As a, uh, thank you for saving me your pastry?”

Paris looked down at her feet, smiling shyly, before looking up, trying not to seem too enthusiastic as she nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear, “Yeah, sure. That’d be nice.”

He nodded, smiling himself, “Great. Do you, uh,” he cleared his throat, “have your phone on you?”

Paris perked up, feeling around her pockets and rummaging through the picnic basket before closing her eyes and sighing, “I left it in my room.”

He smirked, furrowing his eyebrows, “You’ve gone hours not realizing you didn’t have your phone?”

She shrugged, laughing, “I’ve been distracted by the sea.”

He chuckled, shaking his head and pulling his phone out of his pocket, glancing to see the dozens of missed texts and calls he had received since getting here. He groaned, mumbling under his breath as he scrolled through his apps until he reached his contacts, “I should probably get going soon. Do you know your number?” he asked, handing it over to her.

Paris took hold of his phone, the latest and greatest, not a scratch on it. And as she began to input her information into it, her mind raced. She was holding Harry Styles’ phone. She was holding his phone because he wanted her number. He wanted her number so that he could call or text her. He wanted to call or text her so that he could take her out to dinner tomorrow. Harry Styles was taking her on a date tomorrow. Was it a date? Or was it just a casual dinner? What was running through his mind right now? Did he like her? He must, why else would he take her out to dinner? Did he think she was cute? Would he try to kiss her tomorrow? Would she see him again after that?

She handed his phone back and he grinned, hesitating for a moment before asking, “Should we take a picture? Capture this moment? It’s golden hour in Italy. Seems fitting for the occasion.”

Paris grinned, nodding, “Yeah, sure.”

The two shuffled about on his blanket so that their back was towards the ocean, huddling in close. Harry pressed his shoulder to her back and bent his head down so close to hers that their cheeks were touching. She could smell his shampoo and musky cologne, she could feel the warmth from his body on hers. They smiled as he positioned the phone in front of them and double-tapped the camera button, taking two pictures.

“One more. A silly one,” he said.

She giggled, sticking her tongue out and scrunching her nose while Harry puffed up his cheeks and pursed his lips, clicking the button once more. He brought the phone down and turned to her, grinning.

“Thanks for letting me join you on this picnic,” he grinned.

She nodded, getting to her knees before standing up, Harry following suit, “Yeah, of course. Thanks for bringing the blanket.”

Harry chuckled, helping her pack her things back into the picnic basket while she folded the blanket nicely for him. He carried the basket while she hugged the blanket as they slowly strolled back towards the front of the park. The little dog was gone, now, and the only people in sight were an older couple on a park bench too far away to see clearly.

“I’m parked just over here,” Harry motioned to the left, “Can I give you a ride back?”

They stopped walking as they reached the entrance and Paris turned to him, shaking her head, “Oh, no, that’s alright. I can walk. I’m only two blocks that way,” she pointed to the right, grinning.

He nodded, not saying a word as they stood there for a moment. Finally, he held her basket up for her. She smiled, taking hold and swapping him with his blanket, “See you tomorrow?” he verified.

Paris let out a breathy laugh as she confirmed, “See you tomorrow.”

Harry smiled wider, outstretching an arm and giving her a tight, warm, side-hug before pulling away and walking backward, waving, “Bye, Paris.”

She grinned, waving back before she began her trek back to her Airbnb. She turned back to look only once to see Harry, who had been just sitting in his car for a couple of minutes, start up his car and drive off in the opposite direction. Paris twirled and giggled on her walk back, the smile never leaving her face.

When she finally got back to her lodgings, she dropped everything on the dining room table, racing to her room to find her phone, wanting to see if Harry had texted her at all. And, to her astonishment, she had one missed text from an unknown number, opening it to see one picture of her and Harry Styles smiling, and a second picture of them making goofy faces, with a text underneath that read ‘Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Love, H.’.

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Taglist:

@odetostep@mylittleangel9403@thurhomish@fallingfordolans@gwenlovesharrystyles,@harryswinterberries,@gucciboots,@golden-grande, @mylittleangel9403​
@korlynn-grace @ilovedogs1989 @aalessandrabarboni

@f4llingfairy

hi darlings! patrons now have early access to the first instalment of a mob!harry series!

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WC:5,577

“Your cousin’s a little forward,” she coughs out nervously, shaking her head to rid the thoughts. Harry’s heart ticks and he scoffs a laugh.

“My cousin’s a cunt,” he corrects her.

Y/N’s eyes widen as she stares up at him, innocence swimming in her features. Harry forgets again that she’s been raised a young lady, that she’s never been around much potty mouth, and he realises just how much he’s going to corrupt her in this marriage.

As much as Harry wants to protect his wife, he won’t pretend to be someone he isn’t for the sake of an arranged marriage. His potty mouth is just one of the things she’ll have to get used to.

“Stay away from Nino. You may think I’m a monster, but I have my morals. Nino is merciless and evil. He will do whatever he wants and take whatever he pleases. No matter the consequences,” he warns her, his voice timid.

or

Wedding bells are ringing, and Y/N is doomed to her miserable fate.

//

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WC:2,654

Harry doesn’t wake her when they stop midway to get fuel. She wakes hours after he sleeps beside her, but she doesn’t wake him. Instead, she observes him for a little while; acknowledges the twitch in the corner of his lip, the little movement behind his eyelids, the gentle snores that tumble through his throat.

She appreciates his dark lashes fanned across his cheekbones, his ungodly waves. This version of him doesn’t look scary, doesn’t look monstrous. This version of Harry looks approachable, soft… dare she think… vulnerable. His jaw isn’t set and his lips aren’t pursed.

She wants to reach forward and caress his cheek, maybe one day she might.

or

Harry takes Y/N to her new life where she’s no longer a prisoner.

//

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WC:4,270

Harry doesn’t fucking know what’s gotten him in such an aggy and irritated mood. His palms are sweaty and he doesn’t know why. He tells himself it’s because Y/N’s never been out before and that she and Mike have been gone for almost three hours.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust either of them; he trusts Mike with his life and he trusts that Y/N won’t try something stupid. Ideally, Harry would have liked to have been the one to take Y/N out first, maybe to prove something to the people watching his every move, he’s not sure.

Part of him feels a little guilty. He hasn’t seen her for more than five minutes since she moved to New York and he feels a little bit sick. He’s taken her from her family and everything she’s ever known.

or

Harry starts to open up and Y/N finally leaves the penthouse.

//

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WC:7,091

He reaches a hand against her face again and caresses her warm cheek. She flushes under his touch but doesn’t flinch away.

“Are you scared of me?” He asks.

Y/N gulps and lets out a shaky breath. “You’re a Made Man. You kill and you torture. Of course, I’m afraid of you,” she breathes and it’s the first proper sentence she’s directly said to him… that she’s afraid.

Harry remains quiet, letting himself revel in the sound of her voice. Silky soft, just like her skin and hair.

He dips his face down so he’s level with her. Even with her four-inch heels, he still towers above her, Y/N’s eyes level with his clavicle.

“I kill and torture those who deserve it, those who betray me,” he tells her. “But you are going to be my wife, Y/N. And fear has no place in a marriage.”

or

Y/N’s eighteenth is turned into an engagement party for her arranged marriage.

//

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WC:1,154

“But she is of innocence, yes? There will be blood on the sheets,” Stefano asks, as though asking of her virginity is the most appropriate question for a father.

Harry can’t help but smirk at the idea. Having a woman completely bound to him, to respect him and please him only.

Harry has slept with enough women to know how to use his dick, but something about taking a woman’s innocence and making her completely his has his cock twinging in his pants.

or

Harry is arranged to marry Y/N in two years time.

//

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INFATUATION

A/N: ceorry is finally here with plus size reader!! hope you guys will love it, i really enjoyed writing this and i can’t wait to read your thoughts!

WORD COUNT: 13.7k

WARNING: sexual content, struggle with body image

SUMMARY: You’re about to start your business as an interior designer. Thanks to your best friend, your first client turns out to be none other than Harry Styles, the insanely handsome and stupidly rich business man.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

 “I quit my job.”

The front door shuts closed behind you just as Bianca drops the spoon she was holding into her bowl of ice-cream upon hearing your announcement and before she could even speak up you continue.

“And I think Vincent and I kinda broke up.”

She coughs with wide eyes, placing her bowl to the coffee table as she moves to one side of the couch.

“There’s a lot to unpack there, come on, sit down and tell me about it all!” she urges and sighing you drop your bag by the front door and walk over to her, collapsing onto the couch after what felt like the worst day of your life so far.

You eye the ice-cream Bianca just discarded and you feel like you could inhale it in one go so you point at it turning towards your best friend and flatmate.

“Can I eat that?” you sigh with a frown.

“Uh, sure, go ahead! Seems like you need it more than I do.”

You dig into it right away, drowning everything that happened today in the sweet, creamy, icy dessert. You eat it way too fast so you get an instant brain freeze, but in your current state it’s not even that painful.

“So, what happened?” Bianca asks cautiously.

“Um, well, my boss threw out the window everything I worked on the past month and wanted me to start over so I had enough and quit,” you start with the first part of your announcements.

“It’s kind of good, isn’t it? I mean, you hated working there and you’ve been thinking about leaving for a while.”

“Yeah, but not this abruptly. I knew I wouldn’t work at fucking Ikea forever, but it would have been nice if I had a full plan before quitting.” 

Shoving one spoon full of ice-cream after the other into your mouth you try to keep yourself together and not think about how uncertain your life has just become. Everything you had and thought to be stable a few days ago is now gone.

“You’ll figure it out. You can finally start your own business, like you always wanted!” B tries to cheer you up.

“Yeah, I guess,” you shrug, still focusing on the ice-cream.

“I’ll help you, okay? I have some connections, it’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” you sigh with a weak smile.

“Okay, now onto the next thing, what did that scumbag Vincent do?”

Bianca has never been a big fan of your… who was even Vincent? You never agreed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, just acted like it, but every time you tried to bring it up he just dodged it. And because having someone was more than having no one, you went with it and stayed quiet. But lately things have been rockier and you’ve had enough.

“He… He sent me a text with a picture that was definitely not meant for me.”

“What?” she gasps. “What did he send?”

“A picture of a lingerie set and the text said he can’t wait to see me in it. The set was for a woman who is the size of my arm, B.”

You almost fainted in the kitchen section when you saw it, had to hide behind one of the displays to pull yourself together and not have a meltdown in the middle of Ikea. You had to wait until your lunch break to call him and question what it was about, it turned into a screaming match and at the end he just saved his ass by saying you were never exclusive so it’s not cheating.

Then you told him to go fuck himself and all of his side bitches and ended the call. Two hours later you also quit your job, so it’s a miracle you’re not crying like a baby right now.

“Fucking hell, I always knew he was a pig. But you’re better off without him, he never appreciated you enough.” Bianca circles an arm around your shoulders as she brings you closer to her and you lean into her, spooning the rest of the ice-cream into your mouth.

“I think he always had an issue with my looks,” you mumble.

“Because he is a fucking assturd, that’s his issue,” Bianca scoffs and the way she says assturd always gets to you, so you can’t help, but laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with your looks, you look fucking sexy, don’t let an idiot make you think otherwise.”

“Maybe I should go on a diet again. Last time I lost a few pounds, so…” Placing the empty bowl to the coffee table guilt washes over you for eating the ice-cream.

“Fuck no! There’s no diet in this house!” Bianca protests. “You know what? We’ll go for a pamper day tomorrow and then the day after we’ll start to work on your business. Update your portfolio, I already have a few people in mind who would be open to hiring you.”

“I don’t want to put you into extra work, B. You have enough work at the firm.”

“It’s not work, and you’re not putting me into anything. I offered it so just take it. Alright, now let’s watch a movie to cheer you up and never talk about Ike or Vincent again.”

You know Bianca has connections in circles that fall way out of your league. She’d done all kinds of hostess works during college and she made an advantage out of them for herself, networking and connecting with the right people, building herself relationships in fields you can only dream of stepping foot into. She’s been going to business dinners and high end bars with people that hold the kind of power a normal person can’t even imagine. She has dragged you to some outings as well, mostly where drinking was included and whenever she mentioned the name of the places your eyes fell out of their sockets.

“B, I cannot pay for a night there, I would end up just drinking tap water in the restroom!” you protested, but she just rolled her eyes.

“We are not paying a penny. Everything is covered, we’re gonna be guests!”

And that’s exactly what happened. Your money remained in your purse while the drinks just kept coming and coming. During these occasions you got to see what she’s like around these men. It was always obvious they saw her as just an eye candy and nothing more, a pretty woman they can walk in with and earn jealous glances and they probably never even realized how smart she really is, working at an all women law firm. Whenever business talk started and she could chip in once legal topics were touched, she impressed them all with her knowledge and she knew they would be calling her soon, willing to pay any amount just to have her work with them. 

Bianca is naturally confident and the kind of woman every man stares at when she walks into a room. But she never makes other women feel less, what’s more, she can go absolutely feral when someone treats a woman in her presence less just because they don’t find her that pretty or charming. 

One time, when you were freshmen in college you were out at a bar near campus. A guy came up to the two of you and very obviously tried to flirt with Bianca, completely ignoring your presence. He didn’t last more than five minutes before she grilled him so badly he walked away without a single word, never even glancing her way for the rest of the night. 

So when she told you about this “friend” of hers who might be interested in your work, you knew it would be some prestigious businessman, one of the big fish, but now as you’re nearing the office building that towers above most of the city’s other skyscrapers, you can feel your stomach churning. This is not just a big fish, this might be a whole shark and you might not survive a meeting with him after all.

Walking into the lobby you’re met with a modern design, it’s spacious and minimalistic, but also kind of welcoming, makes you want to linger around longer. You approach the front desk where a woman with a headset smiles at you, her makeup and outfit absolutely spotless and suddenly you feel underdressed compared to her. 

“Good morning, how can I help you?” she asks in a nice, warm tone.

“Hi, I-I’m here for an appointment with Mr. Styles?” you tell her, already cursing yourself out for making it sound like a question, as if she knew why you were here.

“May I ask your name, please?” she turns to the computer, her fingers already typing away on the keypad. 

“It’s Y/N Y/L/N.”

She hums, her eyes glued to the screen, the smile never leaving her features. A few more clicks and she turns back to you.

“Welcome, Miss Y/L/N. Mr. Styles will see you in a few minutes, would you be so kind and go to the 78th floor? They will be already waiting for you. Elevators are on your right,” she instructs, gesturing towards the three elevators.

“Thank you,” you nod breathing out the words before making your way to the elevators. 

People come and go, you’re not the only one waiting at the elevators, but you’re definitely the odd one out. The blue midi dress Bianca urged you to wear is out of your comfort zone and you feel like it’s tighter around your curves than what’s considered classy. You paired it with a white blazer you haven’t worn in ages, but it’s the most business-looking piece you own. The women around you seem to be wearing outfits that cost about three times more than yours, designer purses and ankle-breaking high heels appear to be the normal around here while you’re wearing flats, because you simply don’t put yourself through the torture of forcing your feet into heels.

And the cherry on top? The massive folder you brought your portfolio in is anything but professional with the colorful fruits printed all over it, strawberries, watermelons and cherries are floating around on it. You swore you had a simple black one somewhere in your desk at home, but you failed to actually find it and this one was the only one that wasn’t used to the point that it was threatening to fall apart. You thought you could play it off, but seeing everyone around you know you wish you chose one of the beaten-up folders instead.

On the way up the elevator stops three times before you reach the 78th floor and stepping out you’re immediately met with a woman who could easily be the clone of the one at the front desk downstairs. She is just as spotless and perfect as she was, her smiling lips are painted red and so plump, you wonder if they are even real.

“Welcome, Miss Y/L/N! Mr. Styles will see you in a second, would you like to have a coffee or tea while you wait?” she asks, walking you over to a waiting area with comfortable looking couches and massive paintings on the walls. 

“Uh, no thank you, I’m good,” you shoot her a shy smile and she nods before walking back to her desk near the elevators.

Pursing your lips you look around and decide to drop your bag and folder to one of the couches before taking a better look at the paintings. With your arms folded over your chest you squint your eyes looking at the first one, trying to make out what it’s supposed to be picturing. 

All of them seem extremely abstract, minimal color schemes to fit the design of the office and while they look sophisticated and expensive, you’re still looking for the meaning behind the patterns. You get so into the decoding that you start tilting your head to the sides, a frown etched over your face and you don’t even realize when someone joins you in your examination.

“I think they look like birds,” a male voice with a heavy British accent speaks up behind you, making you jump, your heart racing in your chest as you turn around with wide eyes and finding yourself facing the most handsome man you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

He is tall, broad shoulders and a muscular build paired with a charming smile that’s already making it hard for you to think straight. The fitted suit he is wearing must be designer and the massive rings adorning his fingers are also subtle reminders of his wealth. His appearance is oozing confidence and power, there’s no doubt he knows what he is doing and he is good at it too. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckles softly at your reaction. “I’m Harry Styles and you must be Y/N Y/L/N, right?”

Holding out a hand he smiles at you warmly as you slip yours into his, the touch of his palm sending a shiver down your spine. He’s got a firm hold, but not the kind with which someone would try to dominate you. It’s more like a reflection of his strong personality. 

“Yes I am. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Styles,” you manage to speak up despite your awe, though your voice sounded thinner and weaker than you intended it to be.

“Please, call me just Harry,” he asks you, his hand letting yours go and you love how his words are dripping from his accent. “Follow me into my office and we can get down to business,” he gestures towards the door and nodding you gather your stuff from the couch, rushing after him while trying to get your thoughts straight so you don’t make a complete fool out of yourself during this meeting.

His office matches the rest of the building, it’s modern and clean in every way, one full wall covered with floor-to-ceiling windows, gifting you with an incredible view of the city. 

“Please, take a seat,” he gestures towards the couch and armchairs with a coffee table in the left side of the room instead of approaching his desk. You opt to sit on one end of the couch, not sure where he’ll sit, and after dropping your bag next to you, you place the folder onto the coffee table, trying not to cringe at how ridiculous it looks compared to basically everything in the room. 

“Can I offer you a drink?” he asks and you see him standing by what seems like mini bar, it’s got that typical crystal set wit the amber colored liquid in it that very much appears to be whiskey and your eyes involuntarily wander over to the clock on the wall, checking that it’s ten in the morning and he’s offering you alcohol. Harry catches your reaction and lets out a chuckle, opening the built-in mini fridge underneath that’s got all kinds of non-alcoholic drinks as well.

“I know it’s too early for whiskey, I’ve got other choices as well.”

“I’m good, thank you,” you breathe out a chuckle, shaking your head. Nodding he grabs himself a bottle of water and pours some into a glass before walking over to join you, deciding to sit on the other end of the couch.

“Thank you so much for coming in, the last few designers I connected with could only squeeze me in weeks later,” he chuckles and taking a sip from the water he sets the glass down on the table before placing an ankle over his knee, giving you his undivided attention.

“My schedule is not that full at the moment,” you clear your throat and what you meant by that is that you’re free all the time. But he doesn’t need to know that. 

“Lucky for me, I guess,” he smirks, his eyes wandering over to the folder and you expect him to comment on it, but he just keeps smiling before nodding. “So, where should we start?”

“Um, I brought my portfolio, I know Bianca suggested me without anything to show, so I thought you might want to see some of my works,” you explain, taking the folder from the table and laying it to your lap you open and start roaming through, trying to figure out what to show him first. “I have some digital plans I’ve done and some actual ones that I was able to create. I don’t know how much B told you, but I used to work at Ikea.”

Just as you say it out loud you regret it, your previous job at Ikea does not sound too prestigious and respected, but now you can’t take it back. Clearing your throat you hand him the booklet that has your digital works, seemingly he didn’t have a problem with your slip about Ikea, so you just move on.

“I like to try myself out in different styles, though of course I have favorites.”

Harry starts to flip through the booklet, taking his time examining the pictures in it before glancing up at you for a moment.

“And what are your favorites?”

“I’m… I’m a fan of everything vintage. My taste is more of a maximalist, if we want to categorize it, I like mixing different styles and being creative.”

Interior design is truly your passion. You chose this as your career because it’s the only thing you see yourself doing even decades later and you always wanted a job that was also kind of a hobby as well. 

You don’t notice it, but Harry is watching you in awe as you talk so openly about your work. It’s rare he sees someone be so passionate and in love with what brings them money and seeing you be that person is like a breath of fresh air. 

“And do you have a favorite project?” he asks and he doesn’t miss the shine in your eyes as you nod with a shy smile and pull out another booklet. You flip through it until you find the section that’s dedicated to your parents’ weekend house you worked on a few years ago. Handing it over to Harry he doesn’t even need to ask you to tell him more about it.

“Growing up we spent almost every summer here. My mother inherited it and my parents decided to renovate it fully a few years ago. I wanted it to keep its charm and all the memories we have, but also get it into shape.”

“Do you have any photos of what it looked like before?” he asks and suddenly you realize it’s something you should have included in the portfolio. Harry catches how your face falls and somehow reads your expression perfectly. “I wasn’t expecting it to be included, don’t worry. I’m just curious about what parts you kept.”

“I have a few on my phone,” you breathe out, pulling your phone out of your bag. Frantically swiping back you find some old photographs from your childhood, you digitized them for your an anniversary gift for your parents last year, now they come in handy.

Without a second thought you scoot closer to him on the couch and show him the screen where you swipe through the handful of photos.

“I convinced my mom to keep the hardwood floors and the wallpapers needed to be changed, but I managed to hunt down the exact same design, so it’s new but also old,” you smile, you’re pretty proud of it, took you weeks to find it and you drove to the next state to get it yourself. “We kept a lot of the furniture in the living room, I just gave them a little makeover and I kept almost everything in the same place as before.”

The pictures also feature you and your brother as kids, as well as your parents’ younger version. Though you’ve changed quite a lot throughout the years, people always tell you how easy it is to recognize you in older photos. Harry notices as well. The last one you’re showing is of the back porch and you’re sitting on the stairs, your hair is a mess and you’re wearing a yellow sundress, one you loved wearing at the time as much as possible. You have an ice-cream in your hand and some of it is smudged around your mouth as you smile at the camera. Faintly, but you remember this day and the moment your mother snapped this particular picture. It was the last day of summer and she tried to get your mood up with the ice-cream so you wouldn’t be too blue about going home in the morning.

“I assume that’s you, right?” Harry asks, pointing at your younger self on the screen.

“Yes,” you let out an airy chuckle. 

“The house looked incredible before, but I truly love what you did with it too,” he then continues, switching back to business. “I can see why it’s your favorite project.”

“Thank you,” you reply, your cheeks heating up from the compliment. 

The two of you go over some more projects, Harry seems to be interested in anything and everything you say, he is impressed by what you’re showing him and as the minutes go by you slowly loosen up in his presence.

“So, what do you think?” you ask, when you get to the end of your portfolio, booklets and pictures splattered over the coffee table in front of you.

“I love what you showed me and I think that Bianca did not lie when she told me you’re the best I could find,” he smiles at you with that charm you’ve been feeling ever since you laid your eyes on him. “I had plenty of questions, now I assume you might want to ask me a few.”

“Well, B didn’t tell me much about the project you want to work on. Can you tell a bit more about that?”

“Of course. I just bought a new home and learning from my past experience it might be a better idea to furnish it with someone who knows what they’re doing,” he says with a smile that definitely hides a story, but you only have guesses what it meant. “It’s completely bare, I only have a few things I want to bring with me from my current place.”

“Do you have a budget?” you ask, and grabbing your notepad from your bag you start scribbling notes down. Harry smiles as he shakes his head no.

“No budget. Don’t worry about the money.”

Your hand that’s holding the pen stops in motion as you glance up at him, making sure you heard that right before crossing over the word “budget” in your notes. 

“I have a few ideas, but I’m open to basically anything and judging from what you showed me, I know I would like anything you come up with,” he smiles. Standing up he walks over to his desk and awakening his laptop he clicks a few times before glancing up at you. “Y/N, if you’re free, I would love to give you the project.”

It surprises you. how fast he decided and didn’t even ask for time to think about it and hear out other designers. He can see the shock on your face and walking back he sits on the couch again.

“I love what you showed me, I can tell you’d take it seriously and put your heart into it. There’s nothing else I need, Y/N. I’ve only met two designers at this point and neither of them caught my attention like you did. I don’t want to waste my and your time. So, if you’re available, I’m open to start whenever you’re free.”

“I uhh–I’m definitely available and I’d be honored to take the project, Mr–erm, Harry.”

“Great, then I’ll handle the documentation, if you’re fine with that and we can meet for a more in-depth meeting, I assume you have more questions for me.”

“Yeah, I do. And it’s perfectly fine by me.”

“Amazing. As much as I would love to stretch this meeting longer, I have a call in a few minutes, I’m very sorry. But my assistant will get in contact with you about the rest.”

Nodding you quickly gather your portfolio and stuff it back into the folder in a frenzy, not wanting to make Harry late in any way, though he doesn’t seem to be in a rush. As you stand you hold the folder to your chest and follow Harry towards the door.

“Thank you so much for your time, it was a pleasure and I can’t wait to see you again,” he smiles at you as he opens the door for you and walks you out to the elevators. “If I’m correct you live with Bianca, right?”

“Yes, we share an apartment,” you nod.

“Well, when you get home and meet her, please thank her for bringing us together. It’s not the first time she helped me out and she always has a solution for me.”

“She is just that good,” you chuckle in agreement. The elevator arrives and the doors slide open.

“Thank you again, Y/N. I’ll see you soon.” Reaching into his suit jacket’s inner pocket he pulls out a business card and hands it over to you. “Call me if you have any questions, anytime.”

“Thank you,” you nod, slipping the card into your bag. 

“Have a nice day, Y/N,” he calls after you as you walk into the elevator and turning around you face him one last time.

“You too, Harry,” you breathe out as the doors close and you’re taken down. 

When Harry said you’d meet soon to go over your further questions you imagined that you’d have to come into his office again. Yet, now you’re just about to meet him at his current place, it’s six in the evening, definitely after business hours, so you’re a bit thrown off by it.

His current home is not far from the office building and of course, it’s just as luxurious as you expected and you can only imagine where he is moving from here. 

The doorman greets you with a bright smile and when you say you’re here to see Harry, he doesn’t question who you are, just walks you over to the elevators and pushes the button for the 45th floor. Harry must have told him he was expecting a guest and for some reason it fills you with excitement, just the thought of Harry talking about you.

The elevator takes you up so fast, it’s like you teleported to his floor and when the doors slide open you’re met with a hall with two doors. Just as you step out the door on the right opens and Harry appears, no suit, just a pair of simple jeans and a black t-shirt that bares his tattooed arm you couldn’t see last time. It’s like a whole different version of him, but the warm smile he flashes you ensures he is the same man you met a few days ago.

“Y/N, hi! Come on in!” he invites you inside, holding the door open.

“Hi, thank you,” you return the smile and walking past him, you enter his private space.

It’s a modern looking, spacious apartment with a similarly amazing view of the city as his office, lots of big windows, a simple, but luxurious looking interior design, and it makes you think about what he said about his current place and how it was furnished and designed.

“Thank you for being so flexible about the time, I just simply could not fit in another meeting during the day and since I thought you might want to see the things I want to bring with myself, this seemed to be the best solution,” he explains as the two of you walk further into the apartment. It’s spotless and tidy, he definitely keeps his home organized, or has someone to do it for him. “Do you want a drink maybe? It’s after business hours, so it could be alcoholic, right?” he chuckles and you follow him into the open concept kitchen.

“Just maybe a water, please,” you smile. It’s not that you don’t drink, you just don’t trust yourself when drinking, especially around Harry. 

“Alright, a water coming right away,” he nods, smirking as he opens the massive fridge. “Could you find a parking spot somewhere near? I forgot to tell you to use the garage, I have a few extra spots.”

“Oh, I don’t have a car,” you tell him and he gives you a surprised look. “I usually take the subway.”

“You’re not planning to go home by that as well, right? It’s gonna be dark out there.”

“I don’t have many other choices, I can’t really finance a cab drive every time I need to be somewhere.”

He grabs a bottled water and just nods to himself, though you can see the gears turning in his head. He pours some water into a glass and hands it to you, before suggesting to take a seat in the living room. 

“Is this the interior design you did?” you ask, taking a look around. It’s not what you think would suit him, but it’s not as bad as he made it appear to be.

“Oh, no. It’s… I shared this place with my ex-girlfriend,” he tells you and your ears perk up at the personal detail he just shared.

“Ah, I see,” you hum, taking a sip from your water, pretending not to be dying to know more about him.

“The design was redone by her, so it’s all her style. We broke up a few months ago and neither of us wants to stay here. She moved out already and I’m staying just until the new place is being finished.”

“You didn’t have a saying in the design?” 

“Not really. I mostly didn’t have the time to care about it and she willingly took the project into her hands. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately I don’t have any photos of the before,” he adds with a cheeky smile. 

Following some chit-chatting you get down to business. You have tons of questions for Harry and he answers them all willingly. He also shows you the floorplan of the new place, arranging another meeting already so you can check it out in real life.

Hours pass by and the picture gets clearer with each crumb of information you learn about him. The project now definitely has some stronger points you can lean onto when you’ll build up the whole plan. Time flies and the next time you look at your phone to check how long you can stay without feeling like you overstayed your welcome, you realize it’s past eleven. 

“Oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you for this long,” you snap out of your comfort.

“You did not bother, it didn’t even feel like work,” he chuckles. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you smile sheepishly as you start packing your stuff. “Can I use the restroom before I leave?”

“Of course. First door on the right down the hallway,” he instructs you.

Quickly finishing your business you take a moment to smooth out the wrinkles on your clothes and fix your hair before walking back out. Harry is now standing with his phone in hands, smiling when he looks up at you.

“Alright, I’ll head out then,” you exhale, grabbing your stuff from the couch.

“I ordered you a car already.”

“What?” you ask with wide eyes.

“I can’t just let you go home alone so late. Please, I insist!”

“Harry, you don’t have to–”

“Yeah, but I certainly want to. It’ll be here in a few minutes, I’ll walk you down.”

“Okay,” you nod, accepting defeat as the two of you walk out to the elevators. “At least let me pay for the ride.”

“Absolutely no way.”

The way he said that leaves no place for protesting so you keep your mouth shut and just go with it. 

“I can’t wait to see what you come up with, Y/N. First amount will be forwarded to you by the end of the week, okay?” he says as the two of you arrive at the downstairs lobby of the building.

“Oh, yeah, that’s perfectly fine,” you nod. The amount Harry insisted on paying you when you negotiated the costs earlier is about three times of what you originally thought about and he didn’t budge when you offered to lower it. He said your time and knowledge are worth this money and he would feel bad if he didn’t pay the right amount. 

He also told you the first third of the payment would be completed by the end of the week when you sign the papers and it seems like he’ll definitely keep his word.

A car parks down right in front of the building as you step outside, Harry opening the door for you like a true gentleman.

“Thank you for everything, Y/N. Have a great night and I’ll see you soon,” he smiles as you’re about to get into the car.

“Thank you too. See you soon,” you nod with a shy smile. He shuts the door when you’re inside and he waves after you once the driver starts driving to the address you just told him. 

Over the course of the next week you spend every waking moment working on this project. Your room turns into a full time office as well as 80% of the dining table. The remaining space is just enough so Bianca can eat her breakfast in the morning while you’re already working before she even leaves. 

You want everything to be perfect, down to the smallest bit. The trust Harry has placed in you is something you simply can’t afford to waste, this is the base of your business. If he likes your work he might recommend you to some of his friends or partners and you can build a clientele then. 

You’re more nervous when you present your plan to Harry than you were at your last college exam. You made a board, several digital designs, floorplans and basically anything that could help him visualize what you had in mind.

He loves it. All of it.

When you ask him if there’s anything he would want to change he can’t bring a thing up. 

“I’m blown away, Y/N. It’s perfect, really,” he tells you and it feels like every weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders is now lifted and you can finally breathe.

So then starts the actual, physical work.

Harry is willing to pay any amount to get things done as fast as possible, so you get him the best team to do the needed construction work in his new penthouse. In just a couple of days you get the base of the home to the level where you can start with the designing as well. 

It’s a Friday evening when you’re still at the penthouse, working on arranging some decoration on the massive built-in shelves in the living room, the workers have already finished for the day so it’s just you in your yoga pants and an oversized shirt that’s one of your most comfortable ones, definitely not an outfit you’d normally meet with anyone besides Bianca, probably.

So when you hear the elevator doors open, signaling that someone has arrived, you jump in surprise. With a vase in one hand and your printed digital design of the shelving in the other you watch Harry walk in, carrying a takeout bag along with his laptop bag. 

“Sorry to drop by unannounced, but I was in the neighborhood and thought I would check out how things are going,” he smiles as you put the vase down and shove the print back into the stack on the coffee table that arrived just earlier that day.

“It’s your house, you can come and go whenever you want,” you tell him, wiping your palms into your pants as he walks up to you. He must have come from work, he’s wearing his usual fitted suit in royal blue this time, and he looks ridiculously good, as always. You kind of want to dig yourself a hole, looking like this next to him, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering him at all as he places the bag to the coffee table, looking around with an excited smirk adorning his handsome features.

“I could give you a tour,” you offer, folding your arms over your chest.

“Do you want me to see it half-done?”

“Well… my original plan was to show it to you when it’s fully done,” you admit and that’s all he needed.

“Alright, then I’ll just stay right here. I brought food, have you eaten?”

“Uh, I had a sandwich in the afternoon…”

“Then I’ll take it as a no,” he smiles, moving over to the massive couch that’s already put together in the living room area, luckily.

“Harry, there’s no need–” you try to protest, but as always, he cuts you off again.

“No need, but I want to. Come on, I haven’t been able to consult with you properly all week, so we can catch up.”

He brought some Italian, and it seems like he was expecting to find you here, because he brought food enough for two people. Since there aren’t any plates or cutlery yet, you eat straight from the box with the wooden forks the restaurant packed for the order.

“You’re working extremely fast, Y/N. I’m surprised I’m seeing this much progress to be honest,” he comments, digging into his pasta.

“You said you want it done as soon as possible,” you shrug. 

“When do you think you’ll be done with everything?”

Taking a deep breath you look around as you go over everything that needs to be finished. There’s not much left, but some of the furniture will be delivered only next week, so you have to wait for those.

“I would say… next weekend.” Harry’s eyebrows rise at your estimation and then it’s followed by a nod of appreciation. 

“Y/N, you impress me every day. But I don’t want you to overwork yourself, it’s past eight in the evening and you’re still here. No one is expecting you to be home on time?”

“Only Bianca,” you admit with a chuckle. “But she is a workaholic too, so she might not even notice my absence.”

“Just your roommate? No dates?” You can’t help but scoff at his question.

“Exactly. No dates.”

Ever since you parted ways with Vincent you haven’t been in the mood to think about getting yourself out to the dating field and then you didn’t even have time to think about it, putting every free hour of your life into this project.

“That sounded like you had some not too pleasant experiences,” he hums, peeking at you curiously.

“Let’s just say, that a certain guy ruined my willingness to enter the dating scene again for a while.”

“Well, I apologize in the name of every male, then,” he says, hoping to earn at least a tiny smile, and it happens, so he feels like he succeeded. “So, I never asked how you know Bianca.”

“We went to the same high school. She somehow befriended me, don’t ask me how it happened and then we ended up going to the same college, moved in together and we haven’t been able to let go of each other since then.”

“So you have quite the history together, huh?”

“I guess you could say that,” you nod with a chuckle. “How about you?”

“How do I know Bianca?”

“Yeah.”

You never asked her this detail, but now you definitely want to know if they have hooked up before, because then you’ll force yourself to never even think about Harry outside of business thoughts. You respect the Girl Code.

“We met at a conference about two years ago. Somehow got into a conversation and I was in need of some legal help around that time, so she recommended me her boss. We kept in touch, I often go to their firm when I need the help of some outsiders, since I have my own legal team at the company, but it’s nice to get some fresh people involved in some projects.”

“Ah, I see,” you nod, processing the information.

“Not what you expected to hear?” he asks with a smirk as he tilts his head.

“Well, it’s just that some of B’s connections… she tends to make them in unorthodox ways,” you try to explain, in no way meaning to judge your friend.

“We never hooked up, if that’s what you meant by that,” he chuckles and heat crawls up your neck to your cheeks and ears. “We’re strictly friends, sometimes business partners. That’s it.”

“Alright, I have no judgment at all.”

He smiles before returning his attention to his food. You eat in silence for a while before he breaks it next.

“So, do you have a next project after this one?”

“Erm, no, not really,” you admit. You feel like you can be honest with him at this point and drop the professional act. “You are actually my first client, so I’m not quite popular just yet.”

“I’m your first client?” he asks with genuine shock on his face.

“Yeah, I recently quit my job at Ikea. I was a designer for the displays, you know, those fake rooms and little apartments you see on the first floor.”

“You worked on those? You designed them?”

“Yes,” you nod with a soft chuckle. “But I knew I didn’t want to do it for too long and then I had an argument with my boss and got fed up so I quit before coming up with a plan. Bianca said she’d help me out and that’s when you came into the picture.”

“I wouldn’t have thought you just started it. You work so fast and efficiently, I mean it’s obvious you haven’t been doing this for a decade, but you didn’t come off as a rookie.”

This is the best compliment he could give you. You feared possible clients wouldn’t take you seriously because you were just starting the business, but if Harry thought that upon meeting you, it seems like you had nothing to worry about.

“So, no next project then?”

“Not yet,” you shake your head.

“Well… I have news for you then.”

Your eyes widen as you look up at him, a cheeky grin stretched across his face as he places his food box down to the table to give you his undivided attention, so you do the same, unsure what he’s about to tell you.

“If you agree to do it, I want you to design the new office we’re opening soon for the marketing department. They are moving into a separate building, because we plan to eventually turn it into an independent agency, and I have discussed it with the board and we would love to give the project to you.”

“What?!” you breathe out in disbelief. “I-I don’t—that’s… Harry, you don’t have to do it just because I don’t have anything else after this.”

“Up until a minute ago I didn’t know that,” he points out with a warm smile. “And I actually had no power over the decision. I presented your portfolio along with two others I chose, no names, no nothing, they just voted on which one they liked the best. Yours won.”

You stare back at him, total loss of words as you wrap your head around the news you just received. Doing the penthouse was already a good start, but designing a whole office building would skyrocket you into more and more projects, there’s no doubt. And you didn’t even have to ask for Harry’s help, he did it voluntarily.

Touched by the gesture, you can’t stop yourself before you throw your arms around him and hug him tight. Your reaction surprises him at first, but a moment later he wraps his arms around you as well, pulling you close to him.

Then you realize that it might have crossed a line, so you pull back, clearing your throat.

“Sorry… I just… thank you, Harry. Really,” you breathe out, fixing yourself up quickly.

“No need to thank me. You’re good at what you do, it’s a fact.”

You stop yourself from thanking him over and over again, but your look says it all. And that’s enough for Harry.

You finish the penthouse in time and have the big reveal just like you planned it. Harry’s jaw is on the floor the whole time you walk him through his new home, showing him every tiny detail you put into the project with him on your mind.

It’s perfect from the bottom to the top and though Harry was already impressed by your work, now he is completely blown and he keeps telling you that as you wrap up the paperwork to end the project, however you both know it’s not the end of your work together, because meetings about the office building are starting next week.

“What are you doing tonight, Y/N?” he asks when you’re just about to leave.

“Uh, probably just gonna watch a movie with Bianca,” you chuckle, shrugging.

“Would you two like to join me and some of my friends for some drinks? I have a table reserved at my favorite place and I would love to thank you for your work here.”

“No need to thank, you already paid for it,” you add chuckling.

“But this deserves more,” he gestures around, his eyes trailing to the massive windows watching over the city, one of your favorite thing about the place, even though you had nothing to do with that. “And Bianca deserves a thank you for recommending you to me too. Please, be my guests for this one night.”

“Okay,” you breathe out, unable to resist his charm. You’re convinced he could make you do anything with just a few looks and a smile.

“Great,” he beams and pulls you into a hug when you reach the elevator. “I’ll text you the details and I’ll see you tonight!”

“Bye, Harry,” you nod as the two of you part and you step into the elevator, staring at each other until the doors slide closed.

Just a couple of hours later you find yourself at a bar you would probably never go to if it was your choice, it’s obviously way too high end to you, but Harry made it clear no one is spending money tonight except him.

Bianca made you wear a dress you’ve been keeping in your closet for probably years. You never felt the confidence to wear it, finding it too revealing for your appearance, but tonight you changed your mind and took the risk.

Walking into the bar you throw one last look at your reflection in the mirrors lining the walls, the dress wraps around your body way tighter than what you’re used to, making it impossible to hide your true figure. For a moment you second guess your choice and contemplate going back home and changing, but it’s too late for that. At least your cleavage looks good, thanks to your best bra you chose to wear for tonight.

Harry spots you from across the place and his lips part as he watches you approach him, barely even noticing Bianca next to you, which is quite a rare occurrence. You’re not typically the one to be in the center of attention, but you definitely are when it comes to Harry.

“Wow, ladies, you both look amazing!” he compliments, kissing Bianca’s cheeks in a friendly manner before he turns to you and pulls you into a hug for your surprise. The way his hand slides over your spine and down to the small of your back makes your knees turn into jelly, but you manage to stay stood.

“Thank you,” you breathe out as you let go of each other. He is wearing another pair of fitted pants and a white shirt without a jacket this time, the first few buttons undone on his shirt, revealing part of his chest and the necklace you’ve caught a glimpse of before.

You join the circle of his friends, everyone seems incredibly friendly and open and you try your best to remember the names. Drinks keep coming whenever you finish one, but you keep it slow and steady, not wanting to make a fool out of yourself. Throughout the night you catch Harry’s eyes lingering on you several times and you just nervously smile at him before averting your gaze.

“Someone is into you,” Bianca teases you leaning closer so only you can hear her words.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you shake your head, taking the straw of your drink into your mouth and sipping on it to keep yourself busy. Why would he be into you when there are several prettier and thinner women around. It’s hard for you to believe that someone would took interest in you when Bianca is sitting right next to you.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, be right back,” you let B know as you stand from the table and head to the restrooms.

When you’re washing your hand, you take a good look at yourself in the mirror. The outfit makes you feel exposed and you can’t help but spot everything you’d want to change on yourself. Think about how much better you’d look in it if you lost a few pounds, if your arms were thinner and your tummy flatter.

You force yourself to stop before you lose all of your confidence, so turning away from your reflection you head out to return to the table and numb your thoughts with the conversation going on and preferably some more drinks.

As you walk past the bar you almost trip and fall when you spot a familiar face sitting on one of the stools. Vincent is nursing a drink just a few feet away from you, but he’s not alone. There’s a tall, thin woman next to him, one hand on the counter, the other one on his thigh, suggestively scratching her nails over the inside of it.

It’s obvious she is either the woman he intended to send the picture to or maybe another hookup he kept while dating you. Your heart drops seeing the way he looks at her, because you never saw a hunger this kind in his eyes when you were with him. He’s almost devouring her with just his looks and it feels like you’re being stabbed in the chest.

You want to leave, from the bar, from the face of Earth before he notices you, but you’re out of luck. Vincent spots you, a surprised look on his face as you look away in an instant and try to escape, only to bump against a hard, muscular chest.

“Everything alright?” Harry’s hand come to your arms to steady you. He saw you look upset and wanted to check in on you, but now as he sees your expression from up close he is even more worried.

“Yeah, I mean no—I just…” you stutter and before you could give him an explanation, Vincent walks up to the two of you.

“Y/N?”

“Fuck,” you mumble before turning to face him. “Vin, hi!”

“I saw you, but thought it’s not quite a place you like to come to, so I wasn’t sure.”

“You’re right, it’s not my usual place, so I guess that’s why you’re here with someone,” you snicker back, surprising not just Vincent, but yourself with the venom your tone carried. Harry doesn’t need more to realize who he is facing right now, the anger crawling up his spine is hard to control as he thinks about what Vincent could possibly do to hurt you.

But he manages to put it aside and out of the blue he takes the lead. He curls an arm around your waist, pulling you to his side as he flashes a sweet, sugarcoated smile at Vincent.

“I think we haven’t had the chance to meet yet. I’m Harry,” he holds out a hand for him and Vincent is seemingly shocked by the scene, his eyes keep snapping to Harry’s hold on your waist.

“Um, Vincent. Are you two together or something?”

You open your mouth, but Harry beats you with the answer.

“Yes. And I’m the luckiest guy in the city she chose me,” he says, eyes meeting yours as the words roll off his tongue. “Seems like you know her well, so then you know she is the absolute best, right?”

There’s something passive aggressive in his tone, something threatening as he stares back at Vincent who for sure can feel how far behind he is compared to Harry.

The woman from the bar walks over to Vincent and wraps around him like a clingy koala bear, eyeing you with a challenging look, she doesn’t even try to introduce herself.

“I’m getting bored, babe,” she whines to Vincent and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“Not gonna keep you up longer, we have some celebrating to do too,” Harry smiles at them, squeezing you to his side. “It was nice meeting you two, whatever your names are,” he shrugs as he simply pulls you away and your eyes widen at his last comment, but don’t say a word, just walk away with him.

But instead of returning to the table he walks you out to back of the place where people usually disappear to have a smoke. When he finds a peaceful corner, he turns to face you.

“It was him, right?”

“Yes,” you nod, feeling the tears stinging the back of your eyes.

“What did he do exactly?”

“He… He sent me a picture of the lingerie he bought for some other girl, maybe that was her, I don’t know. I just know it wasn’t meant for me, because… Because the sizing definitely couldn’t fit me.”

It feels like you’re dipping yourself in acid, admitting it all to Harry and talking about your insecurities to him. And now that you started, you want to unload more of what you’ve been keeping bottled inside.

“I mean, I would choose her over me too. He would be stupid to settle with me when he can get women like her,” you chuckle bitterly, and it’s the last straw for Harry.

“That’s it, you’re coming home with me, we’re gonna get things straight in that pretty head of yours,” he says and taking your hand he pulls you back inside.

It all happens so fast, Harry tells the rest of the group that the two of you are leaving and before you could even get a word out, you’re sitting in his car, on your way to his place.

When you arrive he helps you out of the car, his hand wrapping around yours and he doesn’t let go as you cross the lobby of the building, marching up to the elevator. The way up to the penthouse is silent, but only verbally. Harry’s hand remains wrapped around yours, his thumb keeps brushing over the back of your hand, squeezing it from time to time. You can’t tell what’s gonna happen now, not after the evening and the shocking turn it took, but you know you wouldn’t be anywhere else now.

The elevator arrives and the doors slide open, Harry’s familiar home welcomes you. The lights are out and you expect him to turn them on, but he just pulls you inside in the dark, towards the windows that are now showing you the incredible night sky of the city. Without a word Harry walks you to the window and then stops, turning you towards the sight, standing behind you.

“Tell me what you see, Y/N,” he then says, his voice coming from right next to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“I see the city. The buildings, the lights…” you softly answer, eyes glued to the picture in front of you, while your mind keeps circling back to his close proximity. 

“Do you find it beautiful?”

“Yes,” you nod shortly and involuntarily lean back, your backside meeting his chest, but instead of pulling away you stay. What’s more, his hands find your waist, the warm touch of his palms reminding you of what it felt like when he pulled you into his hold when you were talking to Vincent.

“Now take a better look. Do you find anything you don’t like in this sight?”

“Yes,” you answer again.

“Tell me, what are these things?” You feel his nose brushing against your hair and you almost instantly forget his question biting back a moan, his front still pressed against your back.

“I see… I see chimneys and messy rooftops… some graffiti…” It’s hard to focus, but you keep your eyes on the skyline and try to find more things that aren’t that beautiful. “I see into a few messy rooms through the windows…”

“It’s not perfect, right?” he hums, his fingers gently stroking your waist as he talks.

“No,” you shake your head.

“But it’s still beautiful, something you admire and love looking at, right, Y/N?”

As the words roll off his tongue you realize what it’s about, your breath hitching as your heart starts racing. Harry notices the change in you and his hands squeeze your waist to earn your attention back.

“Yes,” you breathe out, barely more than just a whisper.

“Stay right here,” he tells you and a moment later he disappears from behind you, your body instantly aching to feel his closeness again. You hear his footsteps move away from you and a few seconds later he turns all the lights on. The sudden brightness turns the windows into mirrors, the city lights fading as the inside of the penthouse appears in front of you mirrored, along with your standing figure. Your eyes spot Harry walking back to you until he takes his previous spot, but this time he keeps his hands to himself as his gaze catches yours in the mirror.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N. When I look at you, I see the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on and I want you to see this beauty too. Look at yourself,” he tells you and you force your focus to move to yourself. “Do you see things on yourself that you don’t like?”

“Yes,” you answer right away.

“But that doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful. All those things make you who you are and when you see it as a whole, you shouldn’t see them, only the beauty.”

Your lips tremble and tears are dwelling in your eyes. No one has ever said anything like this to you and even if someone did, you wouldn’t have believed. But with Harry, you know he meant every single word. You’ve been battling with your looks for so long, beating yourself up for not being pretty enough, thin enough, attractive enough, making yourself believe that no one would ever look at you like you’ve seen other girls being looked at. The envy, jealousy and hurt you had to deal with your whole life never let you see yourself as Harry made you. 

“Hey,” he softly murmurs, turning you around when he sees your teary eyes. He takes your face in his palms, worried he might have said something that hurt you. “Talk to me, did I say something that upset you?”

“No,” you breathe out, your hands coming up to wrap around his wrists as you finally look up into his eyes. “I just… You meant it?”

“All of it,” he answers without hesitation. “Do you want to know what I thought when I first saw you?” he asks with a tiny, cheeky smile as he wipes your tears away with his thumbs, his hands remain holding your face.

“At your office?”

“Yeah. I walked out and you were standing there, staring at the art on the wall, your head tilted as you were trying to make out the painting. You wore that dress and I just took a few moments, staring at you, because I was in awe. I thought… I thought wow! This woman could easily be the end of me and she hasn’t even looked at me!”

You can’t help but laugh at how he recalls his thoughts and the sound of it is making his heart soar.

“That first time, I had to try so hard to stay professional and not make it obvious how attracted I was to you. The way you talked about renovating your parents’ weekend house, I was drinking up every word, you talked so passionately and it just made me fall for you even more.”

“I was so fucking nervous,” you admit, leaning into his touch.

“Yeah?” he chuckles softly. “I made you nervous?” he asks with a hint of pride in his words.

“Of course,” you nod. “I saw you and then… I wanted to be professional so you’d choose me, but I was also very into you at the same time.”

“Really? So you wouldn’t have minded if I flirted with you?”

“No, but I would have probably turned into a giggling little girl,” you admit grinning. 

“I’m sure I would have loved it,” he hums and leaning closer he nudges his nose against yours, your whole body buzzing to be touched and worshipped by him or at least you need him to kiss you before you pass out from excitement. “I’m sorry your ex made you upset tonight, it’s not what I planned.”

“He’s not my ex,” you correct him.

“How come?”

“He never wanted to be in a committed relationship with me, I guess I was never good enough for him,” you tell him with a shrug, your hands moving from his wrists to his waist where you fist his shirt, wrinkling the expensive fabric, but you couldn’t care less.

Harry doesn’t like this answer. At all. The thought of you with Vincent was driving him crazy all evening, but now that he knows he treated you like this is just the last straw. Vincent is lucky he is not around, because Harry wouldn’t be able to hold himself back and not punch him in the face.

Growling, he slides his hands from your cheeks to your neck, tilting your head up by the chin with his thumbs so you’re staring right up at him. Your lips part and Harry’s eyes are mesmerized by the view of having you like this, in his hold.

“Let me show you what you deserve, baby,” he breathes out before the dam breaks.

Hunger takes over him and he presses his lips against yours as if his life depended on it. His kiss is demanding and heated, but you’re returning it with just as much enthusiasm, the feel of his perfect lips against yours seals the weeks worth of pining that’s behind you. Like two puzzle pieces, you click perfectly and the moan that bubbles from your chest when his tongue pushes past your lips destroys the last bits of Harry’s self-control. 

His hands move from your neck, fingers brushing against the swell of your breasts before they reach your waist and dig into the soft flesh, pulling you flush against him while he keeps kissing you, claiming your lips as his.

One hand remains on your waist, while the other moves to your ass and he wastes no time taking a handful of it, squeezing and feeling the curve of it up shamelessly. He loves how it fits perfectly into his palm, it’s so soft and bounces with every movement. 

You circle your arms around his waist, nails scratching his back over the fabric of his shirt and you wish there was nothing between your palm and his skin. When his lips move down to your jawline, then your throat, kissing and biting you on their way, he starts walking forward, backing you until your backside hits the cold glass of the window. Gasping your back arches and Harry uses the opportunity to bury his face into your breasts, giving in to the desire he felt every time his eyes wandered down to your cleavage in this dress throughout the night. He’s losing his mind, licking, kissing, biting and sucking your exposed skin wherever he can reach, inhaling your sweet scent that was intoxicating enough when he wasn’t this close to you. 

The difference between how Harry is all over you and how Vincent treated you when you were intimate is astronomical. Normally your thoughts would be revolving around everything that could go wrong, how you might be looking, your flaws and imperfections that could ruin the experience, but they are now locked and forgotten in the back of your head.

Harry makes you feel so wanted like no one did before. You see the genuine passion and hunger in his eyes, all of it just for you and for once in your life, you feel confident enough to be fully present in the moment. 

His right hand moves to your left thigh and he urges you to lift it up, his hold grabbing the back of your knee as his hips press against yours in a whole new and tighter way now, your soaking wet pussy rubbing against his thigh in this position.

His lips return to yours, kissing you like it’s been decades since the last time you locked lips, it’s impossible to tell where he ends and where you begin. He loves the feel of your breasts and tummy pressed against him, the way you’re involuntarily rolling your hips to create some friction for your pleasure, how you keep moaning when his hands touch you in a new area. He is convinced he is losing his mind, but if this is the way his life ends, then he’ll go as a happy man.

“You’re fucking perfect, Y/N. Inside and out. Let me show you just how much I love this body of yours! Let me show you your worth!” he begs, his words muffled against your lips, but you understand every single one and they make your core throb even more.

“Please!” is all you manage to get out, your own desires taking control over your mind and body.

Harry wastes no time. Pulling back he moves you away from the window just enough so he can reach the zipper of your dress at the back, the fabric instantly loosening around your form before falling to the floor. He steps back, his eyes roaming your body and you’ve never felt more exposed and vulnerable, people you’ve been with usually didn’t take the time to even take a good look at you and you got used to the rush that usually comes with sex. But Ha

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