Perfect Teeth

these girls won’t stop staring at me

I’m concerned that there’s something on my face

But I just took a picture on my computer and nothing looks out of order???

Airports are boring. I’d stare at you.

I would never want to run into you at the airport like they’re crowded enough anyway

Also ur cute and biased

:) I aim to pleaseeee.

You should wave at them.

I’m just igoring them even tho I feel hella judged

Maybe they don’t like my clothes? :(

I thought I looked cute today too

I’m distressed

You always look cute. Promise. Just ignore them. What are you doing?

There were three girls, maybe ranging anywhere from fifteen to seventeen, who wouldn’t stop staring at me. I was nestled into one of the uncomfortable airport waiting gate chairs, backed into a corner because it was the only one near an electronic outlet, and I felt trapped as they crowded around a garbage can and stole glances. I wasn’t looking particularly fierce today, in all of my legging and sweater-ed glory, but I certainly didn’t think I looked that bad. I brushed my hair and put on a little powder and concealer before we left the house for the airport. It wasn’t my best look, but it certainly wasn’t my worst.

I let my eyes flicker back to them for just a second, before letting my gaze drop back down to my computer, glancing at the footage on the screen.

Editing the smoothie video, I texted back to Harry, maximizing the iMovie screen and pressing play.

I was 98% sure that Harry ruined the Thanksgiving Smoothie Challenge footage, because he was in it. Not just the occasional chuckle and giggle, but his actual body. More than a hand or an arm, but his entire torso and face appeared on the screen three seconds after I turned towards the trashcan and started gagging. One hand grabbed at my hair, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail at the base of my neck, and the other grabbed the side of the trashcan to bring it closer to my face. In the next frame, my dad’s eyes widened just as he finished the rest of his concoction, and then he was staring at me in concern as Harry murmured something that sounded like, “You’re okay, you’re okay.” He’s in the footage for the next three minutes - all of which can be edited out - but its the pivotal vomiting/father finishing the rest of his smoothie moment that I was afraid of compromising. His voice is too distinguishable to be edited out. Scratching the entire scene could technically be doable, but the smoothie drinking is the most important part of the entire video. Everything leads up to that and not including it felt like a cop out.

I ignored the video the past four days that I was home, opting to actually give myself a vacation and spend time with my parents. There was a lot of Indian food involved, some premium dollar movie tickets bought, and a lot of conversations that centered on my adjustment in London and work and Harry.

Papa Callil liked Harry, even if he wouldn’t admit it, and Mama Callil was gloating in my admission that inviting Harry over for Thanksgiving had actually been a solid idea. They both dropped me off at the airport with lots of hugs and promises of Christmas and a Tupperware container full of pie to eat while I waited for my flight.

I found my gate, got a cup of tea, and procured a coveted seat with an outlet, so my before flight rituals were well and on their way. I hadn’t been sitting in the terminal long before I realized that I was being stared at. I tried my hardest to ignore it, but I was shifting uncomfortably every few seconds as I felt the weight of their stares on my skin. It was late, already past seven at night as I waited for the red eye back to London, and I always had a bit of nerves before overseas flights.

How’s it going? Almost done?

It’s a little difficult but I’ll figure it out

Lots of jump cuts

And I keep getting distracted because WHY ARE THEY STARING AT ME???

It’s making me v v uncomfortable

Ez they probably just recognize you. Don’t worry about it. Can you go somewhere? Get some coffee?

Have tea and I don’t want to lose my seat, I’ve got an outlet

Can you talk? I can call you?

I probs wouldn’t be able to hear you bc there’s so many people, it wouldn’t help

Babe I’m just trying to help? What can I do?

No I know I’m sorry I’m just being silly and cranky

Ignore my crabbiness

You get in at 10:20, yeah? Where do you want to go for breakfast? xx

Wherever will be good for me

you can pick

I’ll be less crabby then promise xx

I was switching between watching the little bubble as Harry typed his response and group of girls when they all looked over at me, caught my gaze, and then started to descend.

There was a brief moment of panic as they walked over, my eyes widening as I excited out of the messaging app, making sure that my phone screen was blank and the video screen was minimized.

It wasn’t the first time I’d been approached in public – far from it, in fact – but I felt more jittery and nervous than normal. Maybe it was the time or maybe it was my attitude or maybe it was the slightly narrowed expression on their faces.

“Are you Ezra?” The tallest of the three asked as she approached, her expression curious but set. Resolute for something I wasn’t quite sure of. They all had to be related, cousins if not sisters, because they each had matching shades of blonde hair and slightly speculative expressions. The eyebrow arch had to be an inherited or drawn.

I opened my mouth to reply, face already setting in a smile and the words pushed forward on my tongue, when another one of the girls, a lighter shade of blonde wearing a purple sweater, continued. “Are you Harry Styles’ girlfriend?”

The first time I was approached by someone and asked if I was Ezra Callil, it was a surreal experience. I was seventeen and had been solidly making videos for a while before anyone recognized me in public at a non-YouTube related event. There are some days where I don’t run into anyone who knows about my YouTube, but lately it’s been a pretty consistent thing – on the Tube, in line at Tesco, walking from class to class. Being recognized as Ezra Callil, YouTuber and occasional Media Correspondent, was not a relatively new thing to me.

Being recognized as Ezra Callil, Potentially Harry Styles’ Girlfriend, was completely new and jarring (and a little scary).

My mouth closed, expression falling as the words registered. Technically, yes – I was Harry Styles’ girlfriend. This was a new revelation. But also like, no, I wasn’t to everyone else, not to this group of teenage girls, and there was a brief moment as my mind scrambled as I tried to figure out how exactly to respond to that.

“Um, yeah, I’m Ezra,” is what I finally ended up answering, resting my hands on my keyboard as I looked up at them and smiled. I ignored the second half of their question, hoping that maybe they would let me move on.

“Are you the girl that’s dating Harry?” The tallest asked, and she didn’t sound particularly malicious, just maybe a bit more inquisitive than she needed to be. She said his name with a certain sense of familiarity, as if they were old pals and she was entitled to be privy to the more intimate aspects of his life.

“Can I help you guys with something?” I deflected, letting my smile grow even wider. Soft eyes, kind smile. I braved a glance down at the clock on my computer and had to withhold a sigh – there were at least fifteen minutes until we started boarding, which meant potentially fifteen minutes of awkward, strained conversation before I had a viable excuse out.

“We just weren’t sure if it was you or not,” the third one said, stepping a bit closer, and they were crowding around me, a semicircle around the chair. The man sitting next to me, who had been previously engrossed in the current issue of The New York Times on his iPad, looked up and glanced over.

“You look different than in the pictures and stuff,” the girl in purple continued. Her friends nodded.

“Most people do,” I joked, closing the lid of my computer completely and extracting my headphones from my ears. “The glory of good lighting and all that.”

“Are you going back to London? To Harry?”

I swallowed uncomfortably, wishing that they would back up so I had room to stand. I didn’t like being peered down at. “I actually live in London. I was just visiting my parents for Thanksgiving.” I didn’t know why I was volunteering the information, but it was spilling out of me. My phone vibrated on my lap, Harry’s name appearing on the screen. They all glanced down at the sound and my finger’s moved quickly, clicking the lock screen, but they read it anyway.

“Are you guys dating?” The tallest girl pressed. “You and Harry? He was here for Thanksgiving, wasn’t he?”

“He’d never had a Thanksgiving meal.” I offered with a shrug. Stay friendly, Ezra. Even if they make you uncomfortable, stay friendly. ”Can you believe that? Like, who misses out on the glory that is a Thanksgiving yam?”

“How long have you guys been seeing each other?” One asked, and they were all standing so close together, a wall around me, looking at each other every few seconds as they communicated in eyebrow raises and cheek twitches.

It was then that I noticed the girl standing to the left had her phone out, the screen balanced in her hands as she pointed it in my direction.

I pushed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and took a deep breath, calming down the rising nerves as they all leaned in closer. There was a serious breech of personal space happening.

“Did you guys want a picture?” I asked. “Or—?”

“Are you dating Harry?” Another question. “We just want to know if you’re dating Harry.”

I exhaled slowly, setting my shoulders straight as I stumbled over what to say. “I don’t really – like do you normally go up to people and ask them who they’re dating? Is that a thing you do? Because Emily Post would be upset.”

“Who’s Emily Post?”

“Are you avoiding the question because you are or aren’t dating him?”

“Emily Post – Etiquette? Oh man.” My hands were rising on their own accord anxiously, one hand swiping nervously at my check as I tried to figure out the politest way to tell them to fuck off. I was conscious of the phone, of the fact that I was more than likely being recorded, and I felt claustrophobic and anxious and irritated all at the same time.

I’d never been cornered before, never had someone demand to know who I was dating, especially not when it was late and I was tired and I had a seven hour flight to look forward to.

“I don’t really think Harry’s love life is really anyone’s business, y’know? Also, could you maybe please stop recording me? It’s a little rude. You’re supposed to ask first and—“

“You guys are just fucking, aren’t you?” The tallest girl enquired, one hand settling on her hip as her eyebrows raised in challenge. “Because I don’t think you’re pretty or important enough for him to date you.”

My eyebrows shot right up as I inhaled sharply, pressing back into my seat. “I—like—what—?”

“You girls need to leave her alone.” The man sitting next to me spoke up suddenly, looking between the girls disdainfully. He was maybe my father’s age, maybe older, with graying brown hair and a stern face. “Walk away.”

“You won’t last.” From the girl on the right. “Even if you are dating. Harry deserves someone special.”

“You’re just using him for your videos, anyway. Which is really messed up and he deserves someone better than that.”

“Walk away,” the man said again, louder this time, and maybe I hadn’t noticed before but a few of the people around us were peering over curiously, eyes dancing as they took in the scene. “I’ll call airport security and tell them that you’re harassing her.”

“We aren’t harassing,” the tallest girl dismissed, but she looked mildly scared and sent a look to the girl on my left, the quiet one who hadn’t said much. She slowly lowered her phone, bringing it down as she nudged her friend and gestured towards the end of the terminal.

“Walk away.”

“He deserves someone better than you,” she said once last time, but then, with a glare in my direction, they walked away. They disappeared down the terminal, past a Starbucks terminal and a book shop, until I couldn’t see them anymore.

“Thank you,” I breathed out to the man next to me, turning to shoot him a look of appreciation. “Sorry, I just got really flustered and—”

“Teenage girls can be tyrants.” He brushed off, shrugging one shoulder deftly. “No one deserves to deal with that. I have a daughter. I know.”

I thought about bringing up how I was a teenage girl and generally not tyrannical, but I just kept sending him grateful looks, conscious of the phone that was buzzing on my lap.

“Thank you again.” I said, and he hummed out a response.

I sunk back in my chair, inhaling deeply and counting to ten before letting it out, trying to get my hammering heartbeat to slow. Another message from Harry appeared and I swiped at the screen.

Nick wants to come to breakfast too, is that okay?

There’s that place in Primrose that does a good fry up.

Ez?

Have you boarded yet?

Nick can come to breakfast

Does the fry up place sound good? Or do you want crepes? You had a crepe craving the other day.

Whatever’s fine

It’s not my coming home breakfast. You choose.

I don’t really care

About food? What’s going on?

We’re in a relationship, yeah?

As far as I know, yes.

What’s up?

What’s going on?

I tell people no if they ask if we’re dating, right? Like if someone approaches me?
Fuck

what happened? Was it those girls?

They just asked if we were dating

Were they rude? Are you alright?

How many of them were they?

I’m fine.

They were a bit rude but I’m fine

I’m sorry.

Like I don’t understand on what world it’s okay to ask people who they’re having sex with

When did that become a thing people could do

I’m sorry.

Like I get it I’m open and progressive but there are still boundaries

I know I’m sorry.

I don’t think I’ve ever had someone ask me that to my face

Are they gone? Have they left?

Do you need airport security?

They’ve left, it’s fine

I’m sorry Ez

Sometimes people are intrusive.

I’m really sorry.

xxxxx

it’s fine, I’m fine now

suppose it was going to happen eventually, yeah?

We’re gonna board soon, I’ll text you when we land.

Okay.

Ezra Callil @ezracallil
Ok so like I feel weird even saying this, but I’m going to anyway bc when do I ever shut my mouth when I’m supposed to.

Ezra Callil @ezracallil
Cornering someone and recording them while you demand to know things about their personal life is not okay

Ezra Callil @ezracallil
I don’t care who you are it’s not okay

Ezra Callil @ezracallil
it’s bullying – being spoken to in that manner is bullying and posting it on the internet is showing how much of an asshole you are

Ezra Callil @ezracallil
It’s not okay & it shouldn’t be condoned ok? Ok



Harry was sitting on the driver’s side and Nick in the passenger’s when I slid in the backseat. They’d pulled up to the arrivals area just as I stepped out of the doors, the car barely stopping as I hoisted my carry on bag into the backseat and slid into the car. We’d been very strategic in our timing.

Harry was stepping on the accelerator the same time as my seatbelt snapped into place, checking his mirrors before getting into the airport exit lane. There were always photographers at Heathrow, no matter what, because it was the central airport in London and celebrity’s were constantly coming to and fro. My picture wasn’t of much importance, but Harry and Nick together always seemed to be paparazzi gold.

Nick was extending a cup with a straw sticking out of it as Harry turned out of the parking lot, twisting around in his seat to send me a huge smile.

“Ms. Callil,” he greeted happily. “A Welcome Back to the Continent milkshake.”

I took the cup from him gratefully, face folding into an appreciate smile as I leaned back into the seat. “You are the absolute best.”

“I did nothing but supply the blender.” Nick nodded his head in Harry’s direction. “This fool’s the one that made a milkshake at ten o’clock in the morning. Had to go to the store to buy ice cream and everything.”

Harry’s cheeks flushed, his head ducking a little as he very stoically focused on the road.

“Thank you,” I told him sincerely, and then because I couldn’t do much else, I extended my arm and pressed my fingers to the back of his neck, scratching softly at skin in a sign of thanks. Harry’s head tilted back, his shoulders turning to jelly as he let out a content sound.

“You’re welcome.” He practically purred. Nick made a face, scrunching up his nose as he turned back around in his seat, but we both ignored him.

I hadn’t been consciously thinking about it, but a milkshake was exactly what I needed. The flight was long and I’d tried to sleep, but sleeping on airplanes was difficult, even when dead exhausted. I was a little shaken up from the airport occurrence – not badly, just a little shocked – because seeing people dislike me on the internet was different than having people actively display it to my face.

“Heard you got into a bit of an airport scuffle.” Nick hummed from the front seat.

I took a gulp of the milkshake, making an impressed face at the banana to ice cream to milk ratio. It had melted a little bit in the cup, but was still pretty damn good.

“Not a scuffle.” I pointed out between sips. “Just an interesting conversation. It’s not a big deal, really.”

“Did you go all Crazy Ezra Callil, I’m From the States and I Will Cut a Bitch on them?” He asked. “Because I think that would be quite amusing.”

“No. I was polite. I’m sure the video’s surfaced on the Internet already somewhere, so you can watch it eventually.”

“They recorded you?” Harry sounded distressed, his gaze flickering from the road to the center mirror to glance back at me. I was leaning as in between the center console as the seat belt would allow.

“Yeah, they did. But it’s fine. No harm done.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry repeated the same sentiment that he had over text, slouching down a bit in the seat as his hands gripped tighter on the wheel.

Nick shot him a look. “You’ve just gotta ignore people like that.” He advised. “Fuck them all to hell.”

“I know.” I did know that. Logically, I know that. It just didn’t always completely compute with everything else. “I was just a little thrown, but it’s fine. It’s good. I’ve got a milkshake, so I’m pretty much golden.”

“How were the parents?” Nick diverted. “And Harry says you’ve got a cat named Chunky Salsa? A name almost as good as Puppy Power Forever.”

“Parents are good. We ate a lot of Indian food and they spoiled me by not making me clean anything.” This was true. I only did the dishes once in six days of staying.

“Has your father made up his decision on whether or not he likes Harry?”

Harry made a face, shaking his head a little as he showed Nick how exactly unimpressed he was, before turning back to pay attention to the road.

“He likes him.” I grinned. “Hasn’t openly said anything, but I can tell. Harry charmed the pants off my Crazy Nana, though. She wouldn’t shut up about him. I think she’s a Directioner forever now.”

Nick let out a guffaw. “Harry always did well with the senior crowd. You should see him at buffets. They flock.”

“Fry up sound good?” Harry interjected, swiftly cutting Nick off before he undoubtedly launched into a story about Harry and his affinity for older women. We were on the highway now, the traffic was light, and I was pretty sure that Harry was speeding.

“Any type of food sounds good.” I shrugged nonchalantly, still perfectly content with my milkshake. I was hungry, but also tired, and it took all of the excitement I had about eating out of it. I wanted my bed. “So wherever’s the easiest.”

They decided on a cafe they frequented when they were hung over. Nick told variety of drunken Harry Styles stories as we drove, from Harry peeing in bathtubs to trying to adopt a pigeon, and Harry only sat silently and shook his head the entire time. He chimed in occasionally to correct Nick on a detail here or there, but for the most part he was quiet and focused on the traffic.

I laughed and hummed and drank my milkshake, focusing on the back of Harry’s neck and his slightly tense jaw line as he drove. I wanted to swipe my fingers along the back of his neck again, do something to make him relax, but I hesitated.

Nick was the first person out of the car when we parked, walking swiftly into the restaurant, as Harry extracted himself from the vehicle leisurely. I waited for him on the sidewalk, seeing him fully for the first time since he left. I wanted to kiss him, but the street was too crowded, and I wanted to hold his hand, but I wasn’t allowed to do that in public. The limitations weren’t much different from before, but now it was knowing that I had something but couldn’t do it right then that frustrated me.

I fell into step with him and prodded him in the ribs as he opened the café door and gestured me inside. “Thanks again for the milkshake.”

As Harry stepped inside the building, I took a glance around quickly, looking for anyone paying much attention to us. When the coast was relatively clear, I looped a hand around the back of his neck, stepped up onto my toes, and pressed a firm kiss to his lips. His shoulders dropped instantly. “You’re the absolute best.” I told him as a pulled away, pressing another chaste kiss to his jaw before patting him on the chest and following the bob of Nick’s quiff as he followed the waitress to the back of the restaurant.

Harry looked shocked, then pleased, and then disgruntled. “Can’t tease me like that.” He protested with a little pout. “No I want to kiss you and I can’t.”

“You can contain yourself until after brunch.” I promised with a wide smile.

“It’s been days.” He practically whined, following behind me as we wound our way through the tables. The café was almost empty, a few couples huddled in tables towards the front. “I’ve been containing myself for days.”

Nick had already seated himself into a booth in the corner when we caught up with him. I expected Harry to slide in next to him, but he took the spot next to me, pressing his side against mine as he grabbed a menu from behind the napkin dispenser.

Mostly, we chatted idly. Harry talked a bit more in the café than he had in the car, chiming in about the Saturday night spent as Hanson.

“We didn’t actually dress anything like them,” He said with the shake of his head as he flipped through the menu. “Nick had the mental idea that they all wore flannels and cut off shorts, but they didn’t.”

Nick shrugged. “It was the 90s. I made an educated guess.”

“And you were wrong.”

“Dude all I care about is the fact that you wore that wig.” I said. “It’s gonna be your new contact image for the next ten years.”

By the time we ordered, the café was empty and our food came quickly. Both Nick and Harry got the full fry-ups and I got French toast. I was stealing a piece of bacon from Harry’s plate before he even touched it, but he had the right mind to not say anything, because he fork was already digging into my French toast.

“Did you ever finish editing the Thanksgiving video?” Harry asked, using his fork to cut off a piece of my French toast and shovel it into his mouth, syrup dripping down onto his chin.

“Mostly.” I handed him a napkin as I answered. “I don’t know if I can post it or not, though.”

The editing had been finished on the train – I hadn’t omitted Harry – but I was undecided about actually posting.

“What, why?’ Harry spoke with his food half chewed and shoved into one cheek, swallowing quickly.

I took a sip of my orange juice, prolonging my answer. Nick glanced between us curiously as he took a bite of his potatoes. He’d been telling stories earlier, Harry finally lightening up to do that full bodied laugh of his – head thrown back and mouth open, the sunshine practically beaming out of his face – and I’d had to reign myself in from actually swooning. Their friendship made me feel warm.

“You’re in the best part.” I admitted. “I’ve tried editing around it, but I can’t seem to make it work.”

“Are you not allowed to have other people in your videos?” Harry looked confused.

“I don’t know, am I?” I asked him. Technically, I could have whoever I wanted in videos, but it was his legal situation I was more worried about.

“You mean me?”

I nodded and stole half of his sausage. “Aren’t there like, legal repercussions for having you in content?”

Harry rubbed a hand across his forehead in contemplation. “I don’t think so? As long as you’re not profiting from anything One Direction related, it shouldn’t matter.”

“I still don’t know if it’s a good idea.” I told him.

“Why?” He questioned, looking down at me, head slightly tilted to the side. “Ezra, it’s a great video. It’s hilarious. You can’t tell me that you drank that smoothie for nothing.”

“People are going to freak out if you’re in a video.”

“Then let them freak out.” He shrugged, nonplussed. “You made something and it’s funny and you want to post it. I’m only in it for a few seconds.”

“Yeah, okay,” I acknowledged the validity of his point and sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

It still seemed dangerous, like a thoughtless move that was only going to cause more drama than it was worth, but it was a good video. Both my father and I had suffered for it and it didn’t seem particularly fair that the final product would go to waste.

Harry sighed, but let it go.

When he went up to use the restroom a few moments later, Nick set his phone down and leaned forward. “They’re gonna give you shit regardless, Ez Pez. Everyone – it doesn’t matter if Harry’s in a video or not. It’s part of knowing him. Either you handle it or you don’t, but you can’t let him feel like shit about it.”

“I don’t want him to feel like shit about it.” I shook my head quickly, because it was true and I didn’t. Harry had enough on his plate as it was – I didn’t want to intentionally add more to it without good reasoning.

“He’s going to unless you make him stop.” Nick insisted. “His fans are intense. Sometimes they’re fucking mental, but you have to ignore it.”

“I’m trying. I’m just not used to having people say things like that to my face, y’know?”

“You’re gonna have to.” Nick said simply, shrugging of his shoulders. “Sometimes it gets hard, but Harry’s worth it.”

“I know that.” I nodded resolutely. “I do.”

Because I did. He was worth it – he was so worth it. Sometimes he made me feel so happy it was like I was floaty, and sometimes that feeling came from something as simple as a text message.

“Harry doesn’t always know that.” Nick continued, speaking quickly as he glanced over and saw Harry emerging from the restrooms, sauntering back to the table. “Make him see it.”

“What’re you whispering on about?” Harry asked as he slid back into the booth, giving us both shifty eyes.

“I’m telling Ezra that she needs to come out with us all again sometime soon.” Nick recovered, smooth smile painted on his face as he relaxed back into his seat. “Pixie’ll be nice this time, promise.”

“Pixie wasn’t nice last time?” Harry’s eyes widened, turning towards me in question. Nick actually did look a little confused there and I let out a small groan of discontent. I hadn’t told Harry about The Ezra Inquisition of 2013, mainly because my memory of the moment was fuzzy. I’d been drunk – Pixie and Co. had been there way to drunk. It wasn’t the biggest deal.

“Um.” I shoved some French toast in my mouth and chewed slowly, sending pleading eyes to Nick so he would explain.

Nick rolled his eyes, resting his elbows on the table as he leaned forward. “They pulled the whole protective friend thing.”

“What, when?” Harry questioned, glancing from Nick to me, from me to Nick. “At your house a few weeks ago?”

Nick nodded, extending a “yup” as he shot me a knowing look. I hadn’t planned on telling Harry – he hardly saw his friends enough as it was, I wasn’t going to cause conflict there because they had been a little inconsiderate in their questioning.

“You didn’t tell me they were rude.” Harry accused.

“They weren’t rude. Just…protective? It’s not a big deal.”

Harry had the audacity to look irritated, running a hand through his hair as he dropped his fork in exasperation. “You keep saying that about things that are a big deal.”

“Or I keep saying that about things that aren’t a big deal.” I countered quickly. “Because they’re not.”

I didn’t want to cause any type of unnecessarily conflict and I had already dealt with enough tension today, so I send Harry my most sympathetic look and begged him silently to drop it.

“They won’t be rude to you again,” he reassured, but it sounded more like he was talking to himself than to me. I nodded but rolled my eyes down at my plate.

We ate in silence for a few moments, Nick’s gaze flickering back and forth, before he sighed and rolled his eyes and set down his cup of coffee.

“Are you excited for SNL, Harry?” He asked and my head snapped up.

“Wait, what? You’re doing SNL?”

“I didn’t tell you?”

“SNL like Saturday Night Live? No, you didn’t tell me!” I exclaimed, leaning back and jabbing him in the ribs again. He twisted away from me, catching his hand in mine and holding it underneath the table.

“Oi!” Harry protested, caging my fingers with his. “Yeah, we’re doing SNL. We found out a couple weeks ago.”

“Who’s hosting?” I asked eagerly, using my other hand to pry my fingers away from Harry’s. His grip was too strong.

“Paul Rudd.”

“Oh my god.” I let out a sound of frustration as I pulled against Harry’s hands, then a sound of happiness at the new information. “Holy shit. You’re going to meet Paul Rudd.”

“I think there are going to be other people there. They said something about the entire cast of Anchorman, but I don’t know if that’s going to happen or not.” Harry shrugged nonchalantly, looking pleased with himself as he successfully kept my hand pined down to his thigh. I just used my other hand to poke and prod at him. He yelped.

“Oh, I’m feeling faint.” I pressed my free hand to my chest. “I love Paul Rudd. I have such a hardcore crush on Paul Rudd.”

Harry grinned. “Do you really?”

“Um, yes. Since I was like, twelve. And SNL. Dude! This is so exciting! I’m so excited for you. I will either stay up really late or wake up really early to watch that!”

Harry just continued to look more and more pleased as my level of excitement grew, only grinning wider and wider as I ranted about my love for Paul Rudd, which spawned from seeing Clueless at a very young age. Harry chuckled and let my hand go on the condition that I would stop trying to bruise his ribs.

I jabbed him super hard in the stomach.



“Do you have anything else to do today?” I asked Harry after we dropped Nick off, waving goodbye as he disappeared up his stairs and into his house.

“Not really.” Harry answered. “Some errands and then sleep some before the flight tomorrow.”

“Where are you staying?”

“With Lou right now. Though the renovations should be done in early December and then I can maybe move back into my house.”

“Oh, cool, cool. That’ll be good.”

“Yeah.” Harry hummed.

I twisted my fingers in my lap, stretching out my hands as I peered over at Harry. He’d been driving a lot today and I never got tired of it. “Do you want to stay at mine tonight?”

“I kind of thought that was implied.” Harry replied, and then one of his hands moved off the wheel to grab one of mine, his index finger hooking around mine. “We’ve got limited time, gotta make the most of it.”

We both grinned.

“I’ll drop you off and then I’ve got a few errands to run, but I’ll be back for dinner. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I agreed. “I’ll probably end up sleeping for most of the day because I’m shit with staying up to beat the jet lag. I always get wired at the wrong times.”

“Serotonin pills.” Harry suggested. “Or we can just have a lot of sex and that’ll tire you out.”

“I mean, I’m open to suggestions.”



We were lying on my bed, stretched out but curled up together underneath the covers. Harry had suggested a movie, but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to fully make it through one without falling asleep and I didn’t want to start something that we wouldn’t be able to finish. Movies were not properly enjoyed that way, despite what Harry liked to argue.

“Are you ever going to talk about what was bothering you with management?” I asked him quietly, words falling into the crook of his neck where my head was settled. I was pretty much lying on top of him, my chest settled over his as my hands traced the ink on his side. I’d striped down to a t-shirt and underwear to fall asleep in earlier and hadn’t changed since, even when we sat down cross-legged in front of my couch and ate Mexican food that he’d ordered in. Harry had shed all of his clothing save for his boxers for a cuddle, but being naked seemed inevitable. We always ended up that way, even if we didn’t always have sex. He shed his clothing in his sleep and was quite fond of shedding mine.

Harry remained quiet, one of his hands fiddling with a section of my hair, fingers running through the strands and massaging my scalp. “They want you to sign a NDA.”

“A non-disclosure agreement?” I clarified, face still pressed against him. I thought about moving, maybe, about having this conversation face to face rather than fully against him, but I liked feeling his firmness underneath me. The stretch of his skin and the ripple of his muscles as he laughed and the consistent beating of his heart.

“Yeah.” He swallowed and I could hear his anxious intake of breath. “It’s not because they think you’re super sketchy or something, it’s just a precaution.”

“What does it enclose? Like what things does it cover?”

“Just that you can’t like, talk about any band stuff that you might know.”

“And I can’t slander your name if this ends badly, basically.” I summarized, only partially joking. My hand traced the bird cage on his side, lightly following the lines.

“You can slander my name all you want.” He disagreed, peering down at me. I could see the honesty in his face. “I’ll slander it for you, if you’d like. It’s mainly just band stuff.”

I nodded into his chest, only taking a few seconds to think, before agreeing. “Then sure, fine, yeah. I’ll sign an NDA.”

“Really?” He seemed surprised.

“Will it make your life easier?”

“Minutely.”

“Then I’ll sign an NDA.” I said easily. “I wouldn’t spill the band stuff anyway because I’m not an asshole, but if it makes your management happy, fine.”

“Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead, sounding relieved. He made it sound like it wasn’t really that big of a deal and I wondered how he wouldn’t responded if I refused to sign. Would he have pressed it? Let it go? “Have I told you today that you’re the best and that I like you a lot?”

“Not that I can recall.”

“You’re the best and I like you a lot.”

“Right back atcha, homeslice.”

“Oh how you woo me with your romance,” He sighed wistfully.

“I can be romantic, you prat,” I protested, and then just to prove it, I jabbed him in my preferred space under his ribs. “See? I’m touching you sensually.”

“Go a bit north for that.”

“You want me to jab you in your dick?”

“Oh holy hell, no,” He shook his head quickly while one hand went to cup over his groin, protecting the sensitive area. “Not unless you plan on kissing it and making it better.”

“Meh.” I shrugged. “I think I’ll pass. I’m still tired.”

One of Harry’s hands moved down and brushed under the hem of my t-shirt. “Can we at least kiss?” He asked, turning me slightly so our faces were closer together. “I think we at least need to kiss.”

I said nothing in reply, but didn’t exactly protest as his hand nudged my chin and he was stretching down, kissing me. Our movements were languid, slow caresses of skin as our mouths moved together. Everything about Harry’s mouth was slow, soft, and precise, from the way his tongue gently nudged against mine to the gentle nibbles of his lips. His hands stretched across my back, pulling the hem of my shirt up until he was detaching our mouths for only a moment, untangling the t-shirt from my arms and then sliding my underwear from my legs.

We had sex lazily, swallowing each other’s moans and groans as he pressed me closer, closer, closer.

“Always want you so much,” Harry murmured against my mouth as we both came down, my legs still shaking as I shut my eyes and collapsed against him.

“I like you so fucking much sometimes I don’t even understand it.” I murmured right back. “Best boyfriend ever.”

“Best girlfriend ever.”

“I mean probably not but I try.” I laughed into his chest.

Our breathing calmed, synchronizing as we relaxed, and I was on the verge of sleep when Harry spoke.

“Please don’t let other stuff mess this up.” He whispered against my ear. “I know things are complicated and I’m sorry.”

“You can’t change it, Harry.” I whispered back, turning on my side so we were facing each other that way. “So stop apologizing. You more than make up for it.”

“I don’t want this to go to shit because of other people.” He confessed, eyes closing for a moment. He looked vulnerable, the tiny baby hairs matted around his forehead with sweat, eyes wide and glowing and honest.

“Then we won’t let it.” I said. “Easy. Done.”

“I don’t think it’s always that easy.” He protested.

“Why can’t it be? If we don’t want it to go to shit, it won’t go to shit.”

It was a wishful form of thinking, maybe a little idealistic and probably very naïve, but it was something that I had to believe right then. Maybe not ever, but at least right then. We could do this. Feeling like this, pressed against him, I didn’t know if I could do anything but this.

“Okay.” He pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “When do you have your first final?”

“Monday afternoon. Will you be back by then?”

“No, we’re in the city until Wednesday, then we come back. But we’re done until after Christmas and even then it’s just a few small things. Really off until March.”

“What’re you gonna do with all that extra time?”

“Relax for a bit. Have lots of sex with my girlfriend. Get wasted with my mates.” He listed. “I have a few other projects I want to work on too.”

“Sounds wonderful.” I smiled.

“I have high hopes for it to be.”

I pushed him until he was flat on his back, burrowing into his side as he grabbed the duvet from the bottom of the bed and covered it over us. “What time’s your flight tomorrow?”

“Early morning. I’ll be gone before you wake up. Do you want me to wake you up when I leave?”

“Yeah,” I decided. “I’ll see you out. At least kiss you goodbye so you don’t have that to complain about it.”

“Shh,” Harry shook his head at any mention of his complaining, grabbing both of my hands as I went again to poke him, entwining our fingers and settling them between our chests. “Sleep now. Some of us have things to do in the morning.”



www.tumblr.com/tagged/ezra+callil
I feel kinda weird about harry being in her new video like idk I never thought about her using him for his fame until now but that video’s already got a tooooon of views because of him being in it

That video that those girls posted is NOT OKAY. You do not fucking CORNER SOMEONE and demand to know about their relationship. Ezra looks anxious and scared and I AM A GIANT SQUID OF ANGER LIKE SERIOUSLY

So much happened today like first she posts a video and Harry’s in it and he holds back her hair while she pukes like how sweet is he and then in that video she just looks so scared for a moment like people just need to leave her alone

www.tumblr.com/tagged/hezra

HARRY IS IN THE NEW EZRA CALLIL VIDEO (link) IT’S LIKE 7 MINUTES IN BUT SHE PUKES AND HE HOLDS HER HAIR BACK

There are already gifs of him holding her hair back how is that exciting???

She doesn’t say that they’re not dating in the video that those girls posted you guys know that right like they’re totally dating she didn’t deny it

he’s in love with her. Like look at the way his face looks when she’s puking. He’s in love with her.