Breathe

With my 22nd birthday coming up, I wanted to do something special to remember it by. It wasn’t going to be a massive affair as far as I could tell. My parents had called in saying they’d all come down to have brunch and spend the day with me. Afterwards, my friends and I were going to go out for dinner and take it back to my flat for cake. I’d opted out the idea of having a party since we were going to one every weekend, anyway, and instead thought long and hard about what I should do for myself. Eventually the idea came to me one night when Harry was sketching in his little, brown leather book. He was drawing a bottle with some letters around it -- probably some random tattoo idea and then it came to me -- I should get a tattoo.

When I mentioned it to Harry, he was all for it because he wanted to get one as well. Although, he insisted on paying for mine as a birthday gift and wouldn’t take a no for an answer. Eventually, I agreed and that was how the two of us found ourselves at Tom and Lou’s tattoo shop the night before my birthday. I’d decided to go first since I was only getting two small finger pieces -- a white dove and a red heart outline. However, when Tom was about to sit down to do me, Harry interrupted, asking if he could do it instead.

“You sure you want to?” I asked.

Harry nodded with a small smile as he sat down on Tom’s seat. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it is,” I smiled back. “Just don’t botch it up.”

Harry laughed, grabbing the tattoo gun, and getting down to drawing out the tattoos. It actually went well and I even got a kiss from Harry for not moving around much. After me, Harry sat down on the chair for his turn. His tattoo was fairly large, like most of his other ones, and placed right between his bible tattoo and his anatomical heart tattoo. It was the bottle he’d been drawing in his little book -- a bottle with the words, “You booze, you lose,” written around it. I was dumbstruck with how relaxed and chilled out he seemed while Tom went about stenciling it in. I would have been shaking on the chair because it was so much bigger and more shaded in, so it was bound to hurt. Then again, Harry said he liked the pain, weirdly enough, and didn’t mind. It would explain how he possibly sat through his sparrows on his chest and the butterfly on his stomach.

Lux, who was hanging out with us at the shop, stared at Harry’s arm in confusion for a long time, narrowing her eyes in order to make out the words as her dad inked it in. “What’s that mean?” she asked eventually.

Harry looked to her parents for some clue as to what to say, but Tom was merely smirking while doing his job, and Lou was browsing her Instagram by the counter.

“Um,” Harry stammered, laughing nervously while Lux continued to look at him expectantly. “It means if you sit around doing nothing all the time and be lazy then you’ll lose in life, Luxy.”

“Oh,” she replied, even though her expression indicated that she was still having a bit of trouble understanding. She sighed with a shrug. “Well, I like B’s tattoos better. They’re prettier, no offense.”

I laughed obnoxiously at Harry, who looked affronted as Lux walked back over to me to examine my fresh ink. “It’s not meant to be pretty,” Harry replied. “It’s meant to be inspirational.”

“You’re trying to inspire yourself?” Lux asked, giggling. “What for?”

“Well, I’m graduating in, like, a month, Luxy,” he answered. “Can’t be messing about anymore. Have to prepare myself for the adult world.”

“And how are you going to do that with all those tattoos, mister soon to be barrister,” Lou teased from where she was standing by the counter.

Tom and I snickered at that while Lux looked even more confused, trying to repeat the word barrister to herself as if it would eventually make sense to her. Harry, on the other hand, fixed us with a wicked, confident grin. “I’m going to invest in a lot of full sleeved dress shirts is how. Now, stop teasing me and let me get my damn tattoo in peace.”

“Your inspirational tattoo,” Lux reminded him.

“Yes, that.”

Once Harry was done and the two of us got a long list of instructions on how to take care of our tattoos, we bid goodbye to Lux and her parents, then walked back to his car hand in hand. It was a warm spring night and the breeze was just right. I cuddled in closer to Harry and smiled shyly. “Thanks for the tattoos.”

“Of course,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “I’m happy to have gotten you something that you really wanted. They really are pretty. Suits you.”

“Thank you. I like yours, too. Very inspirational.”

“You better not be mocking me,” he said, fixing me with an unamused look before looking back up to locate where he parked his car.

“I’m not. I swear I like it.” I giggled before bumping his shoulder with mine, making him meet my gaze again. “Where are we headed now, then?”

“Frat house,” he answered. “Finally got the room all fixed up like I wanted it. I haven’t slept in it yet, though. Tonight would be the first night since I’ve got early morning lectures.”

“How come you haven’t stayed in it yet?”

Harry laughed shortly, running a hand through his hair. “I had to burn some candles and spray it around a bit to get that smell that my own room has before I could. Otherwise, it felt too weird. Smelled too much like Greg.”

“And what did Greg smell like?”

“Too much axe,” Harry replied drily as we got into his car, making me laugh.

When we got to the frat house, we found Ed and Josh sat in the living room, watching some program. They gave us a wave as we headed upstairs and I noticed the way Josh’s expression became pinched and rather uncomfortable. In all that had happened these past few months, I hadn’t really seen him around as much or thought to wonder how he felt about me dating Harry. They were frat brothers and I knew that their bond with one another was very strong. And I hoped it didn’t create any unnecessary tension because me being with Harry had nothing to do with Josh. It wasn’t planned or anything, but it was right and that was all that I really cared about when going into it. Maybe I should speak to Josh next time I saw him, just to make sure everything was okay between us and that there was no bad blood. It would clear the air and give me a sense of relief knowing I hadn’t hurt any of the boys.

Harry grinned as we approached his room, amongst the many in that hallway that housed some of the other frat brothers. “You ready?” he asked, like he was about to open up the door to reveal some Disneyland replica or worse, the red room like in 50 Shades.

I snorted at the thought and gave Harry a nod. He finally opened the door to his room and flipped the light switch on as we slowly walked in. It was a fairly medium sized room, similar to the others in the house. The only reason it wasn’t bigger was because there were two queen-sized beds on both sides, one for Liam and one for Harry, with a single desk in between them. The boys moved some of their stuff in there, like books and such, but it was mostly decked out in fraternity pride stuff. I spotted the familiar OX up on the wall, which were the Theta Chi letters, beside a few football club posters that I knew the boys loved and pictures of past parties, charities and events the frat had done.

“That side’s mine,” Harry said, pointing to the bed on the right. “Not much in here, like I told you, since we only have a few weeks left, but it’s convenient and smells better.”

I nodded at that, just then noticing the faint, familiar cinnamon smell in the air much like Harry’s room at his flat. He tried to make it as homey as possible, with a soft, light blue duvet laid out on the bed along with two of his pillows. Most of the books were of his and he had a tack board up beside the bed with several things already pinned up.

“It’s great,” I said, turning to face him while he pulled out a pair of fresh boxers from a wooden wardrobe beside the door. “I like your own room better, though. Bay window and all.”

Harry laughed, leaning over to give me a quick kiss. “I know you do. Anyways, I’m going to go the bathroom for a sec. Do you need use it? I should tell you, though, that it’s disgusting in there and there are naked boys walking in and out all the time, so consider this my one warning.”

“I’m good,” I said, shaking my head with wide eyes. “Peed at the tattoo shop.”

“Alright, babe. Be right back.”

Harry slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him and I stood there in silence for a few moments. I could hear the distinct noise of the telly from downstairs, laughter from boys walking by outside in the hall and the soft sounds of someone moaning from somewhere in the house. Nice, I thought grimly. Rather than standing there doing nothing, I took to looking around the room a bit more, walking over to the tack board.

There were tons of post it notes, list of things to do for school and random errands as well as receipts, and randomly, right smack in the middle, a picture of me.



It was from a few weeks back if I recalled correctly, before Harry and I became official and were just sleeping together. The two of us had gone out on a drive late at night after our coffee run and ended up stopping at Westminster Bridge like proper tourists. I had stolen Harry’s hat off his head and refused to give it back, giggling and moving away every time he tried, but I mostly thought he probably wanted me to wear it because he didn’t try that hard. I couldn’t remember the picture being taken, so it probably meant Harry was trying to be sneaky about it. And the more I looked at it, sitting on the wall beside Harry’s bed, the more it pulled at my heart strings with the realization of how big this was -- for me at least.

Harry literally went out of his way to print that picture out from his phone and put it up on the wall while fixing up this room and I’d never had someone care for me that much. I’d never had someone go to this many lengths to show that they love me. It wasn’t that big of a move compared to other things Harry had done, but it spoke volumes of how much he felt for me. And it wasn’t even like he was doing this to show me. Harry did this because it was his room and he wanted a picture of me in there. It would be the first thing he saw when waking up and the last thing he saw when falling asleep.



“Who are you texting?” Leah asked, practically getting off of her seat and trying to peer over my shoulder.

I quickly flipped my phone around and hid it from her view, scowling at her. “Privacy is a thing, in case you didn’t know.”

Leah rolled her eyes and settled back in her seat. She’d always been rather nosy growing up. Back in the day it was my diaries she read and now it was texts on my phone. Mum and Dad were sat across from us, ignoring us bickering because it wasn’t unusual, while browsing updates on Facebook on their own phones. They’d recently made their own accounts and were fascinated by social media. Leah’s husband, Jamie, was the only one who couldn’t make it because of work. So, the four of us sat around and caught up and made plans for a short family trip over the summer to somewhere nice, if we could manage. Dad was thinking of America, but mum wanted to go somewhere in Europe. Leah was set on Australia, while I wanted to go to somewhere tropical and exotic like Dubai. With our differing opinions and wishes, I figured it was going to be an ongoing debate until the time came to actually make a decision.

Other than that, Leah mentioned that she and Jamie were thinking of moving back to England and that was part of the reason why Leah flew back alone. She was looking for houses for the two of them for somewhere close to London while also being near Hadley Wood since both of their parents lived there. Mum and Dad were finally finished remodeling our basement and spent most of their free time there. Leah and I didn’t hold back in telling them how jealous and bitter we were that they had done this after the two of us moved out.

As for me, I mostly told them about Harry with a giddy, shy smile on my face the entire time. They asked about a billion questions regarding him, like how he was as a person and whether or not he was a good boyfriend. Mum was ecstatic and eager to meet Harry, asking about him with a gleam in her eye, while Dad was a little reluctant about the whole thing after he saw the tattoos I got, but not against us being together. Leah, who had been keeping up with us via Instagram, thought I had great taste because Harry was gorgeous in her opinion. All in all, they gave me the seal of approval and it made me happier about everything because with every day that passed, I realized how right this was. How right Harry and I were together.

I wished he could have come and met them, but I was kind of unsure as to whether or not we were at that stage in our relationship yet. Then again, it wasn’t like we hadn’t moved forward in other aspects of our relationship rather quickly, either. We were barely a month in and Harry had already said “I love you”, but that was okay because we’d been friends for so long so it didn’t feel weird. It wasn’t like we’d just met. So, maybe it was okay to want him to meet my parents and to want to meet his parents, too. Maybe it was okay to want to move at the pace that felt most comfortable because our level of affection shouldn’t be based around how long we’d been together. That was hardly important in the grand scheme of things. It just felt right.

“So, what’s the rest of your day looking like?” Mum asked over her glass of wine.

“Dinner with my friends,” I replied. “Think it’s going to be fancy or summat.”

“That’s nice,” Dad said. “Harry didn’t plan anything special?”

“Well, we went to get the tattoo together and that was his gift,” I shrugged. “It’s cool because we see each other every day as it is. I’m not really looking for him to do anything special or particular. Kind of happy the way things are. He’s lovely all the time.”

Mum broke out into a massive grin and got that look in her eyes again, the one where they sparkled because I was talking about Harry. She’d been doing that since the topic of Harry was broached at the beginning of brunch and I was starting to wonder what was going through her mind. It had to be something or another because mum was a romantic and often asked me about boys and whether or not there were any in my life. After Dean, she’d sort of been concerned about me and what I was going to do because I’d been single for so long since then. It didn’t occur to her until after I talked about how being on my own didn’t mean I was unhappy. I didn’t need a man or to be in love to be happy and complete. Still, she wanted me to find someone because in her opinion, it definitely heightened the quality of life. Once I’d told her about Harry, she was over the moon with excitement.

“Do you think Harry’s the one?” Mum asked finally.

“Mum,” I cried, flushing at her question while Leah snorted, covering her mouth in amusement. Dad, on the other hand, started choking and coughing on his wine. He was still getting adjusted to the whole thing and he never liked it when I got boyfriends as it was. This was an extra shock. Poor man. I fixed Mum with a stern look, even though it seemed to have no effect on her grinning expression. “I’ve only been dating the boy for a month. So, I don’t know.”

“Well, do you love him?” she asked, still prodding.

“I -- I don’t know,” I stammered, my cheeks warm. “I’m not sure, yet. Maybe.”

“Good enough for me,” she smiled. “Bring him over one day. You’re only an hour away and you say he’s got a car, so transportation shouldn’t be hard. We’d love to meet him.”

“He’d love to meet you, too, Mum. But I can’t bring him if you’re going to ask stuff about marriage and stuff because I have a feeling you will.”

“Wouldn’t put it past her,” Dad supplied, making Leah and I snicker while Mum swatted him on the arm playfully.

“Enough,” she tutted. “Just want to meet the boy who’s got our Blair so swept up. It’s lovely to see you happy, love.”

I beamed at her, once again wishing she could meet Harry and see for herself how lovely he truly was. I felt like I was on cloud nine simply from talking about him to them. They’d meet him on graduation, though, so there was that. But, as funny and ironic as it was, I didn’t like to think of graduation that much anymore. Thinking about that day didn’t make me feel happy or excited anymore, mostly just sad and nostalgic. However, the more I avoided it, the harder it became because graduation was coming up and it was all some people could talk about. I’d thought I’d be one of those people, but instead, now I was just wishing for the year to rewind itself so that I could relive some of the best times of my life. So that I could get Harry sooner rather than later to spend more time with him before everything changed and I wouldn’t know where we’d stand.

Because as real and right as it felt now, I had no idea what laid ahead of me after graduation. Would Harry and I be on the same page and want to still be together? What would all of that mean for us in the long run? Would we make it? And the thing was, in life things never turned out the way they were planned. I’d planned to come to this Uni and finish it as quickly as possible with no distractions and be on my way to the real world. To face new challenges and find myself. Instead, I found Harry.

Reasons and questions like that scared me because it meant that we might have an expiration date and I wasn’t ready to think of any of that when I’d only just gotten him. I didn't know if I'd ever be ready to think about it, but eventually I'd have to because our graduation date kept getting closer everyday. 



My birthday dinner was a small fancy affair amongst just us friends. We’d all gotten dressed up in our nicest clothes and ate at NOPI in Soho. I’d felt proper adult and mature, causing the others to laugh at me once I’d said as much, even though they felt the same. Afterwards, we drove back to campus and I looked to Harry in confusion as he parked in front of the frat house, which was lit up for the weekend party with people walking in and out.

“We going in for the party?” I asked Harry. “Thought we were headed to mine for cake.”

“Yeah, we will,” Harry replied. “Just wanna drop by to pick something from my room. The lads were saying it’d be nice to get a drink, too. You don’t mind, right?”

“No. It’s cool,” I responded, getting out of the car. Harry got out after me and stepped off the to side to make a quick call while the others pulled up shortly after. I felt rather overdressed because most of everyone that was there were in ripped jeans and tank tops while I was stood in a gold and black sequined mini dress. Our whole group was dressed to the nines and it’d be hilarious to see everyone’s reaction to us, especially Ed, because he loved to take the piss.

Harry appeared beside me then and smiled, his arm snaking around my waist. “Ready?”

“Sure,” I replied, leaning into his touch.

We all walked to the front door only to be met with all the guys crowded into the living room screaming, “Happy Birthday,” at me. The shock and surprise of that had me stumbling back into Harry’s arms and gasping while staring wide-eyed at everyone. Harry caught me with a laugh, his hand on my waist while the other gripped my hand.

“Oh my god,” I said, voice quiet in the loud room, looking around completely shell shocked at all the balloons and the banner with my name written on it with a giant sharpie on the side of the room. This was a surprise party and all the frat brothers were in on it. I turned to look at my friends with a questioning expression and they all simply looked back with pleased smiles, so they were in on it, too. When I turned to look at Harry, he looked equally as pleased. “You threw me a surprise party?”

“We did, yeah,” he replied, laughing. “Look at your face, babe. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Oh my god,” I repeated, still shocked and feeling taken aback by the enormity of this whole thing because it was massive, really.

This frat had nothing to do with me. I wasn’t a member, nor did I contribute much to it. I spent every weekend here, sure, and had quickly became friends with practically all the guys here, but they went and did all of this for me. It was a bit overwhelming and I had no idea how to react other than stare at everyone with my jaw hanging.

But then Ed made his way through the crowd towards me, carrying what looked like a sash. I widened my eyes when I caught sight of the words and Ed grinned at me, whispering happy birthday as he hugged me real quick.

“Now,” he said, voice loud to match with the music that was playing on the speakers. “When Harry mentioned it was your birthday and that he wanted to do something special, we all immediately jumped at the idea of throwing you a party here. Would have had one anyway, but this gives it a more valid reason other than the usual getting shit faced one.”

Everyone laughed, quieting down to let him finish.

“And so a few of the boys and I put in our mutual efforts to make it happen. We made that banner and got some balloons to decorate the place. Might have failed, but A for effort, amirite? And Harry baked a massive cake from scratch for you, good boyfriend that, which I think Niall went to fetch. But before all that we’ve got a sash here for you, too.”

I couldn’t contain the grin on my face, hearing all that while Ed helped me put the sash on. Once it was adjusted, I looked down and showed everyone else as they cheered and laughed loudly again.

Honorary Theta Chi Member

“You’ve come here every weekend since the beginning of this year and you’re one of us now, Blair,” Ed finished. “Happy Birthday!”

Niall came out then with a rather large cake with my name written on it. It wasn’t the pretty ice cream cake that Liv had went out and bought earlier that was sitting at our flat, but it was perfect. It made me burst with pride and happiness that these were my friends and they did all this for me. They turned down the music and started to sing Happy Birthday while I blew out the single candle in the middle of the cake and cut it with the plastic knife Niall gave me. Once that was over, Niall carried the cake towards the kitchen, the crowd following him to grab a slice, and I stayed back to ground myself after that entire thing. I was still feeling overwhelmed and like I could burst at the seams.

Harry stayed beside me, nudging his nose against my cheek with a smile. “You surprised?” he asked.

“Am I surprised?” I asked with faux sarcasm. “I don’t know. It was okay.” Harry laughed in response while I turned to face him, pulling him down by the back of his neck and kissing him sweetly. “Thank you so much.”

“Welcome, B,” he mumbled against my lips. “Love you.”



Due to the good weather, people came out to the yard at the back of the frat house often during the parties to smoke and drink away from all the music. Harry pulled me out there after managing to get a spliff from Louis and asked me to smoke it together, which I easily agreed to. We sat down on the steps, his blazer off, and I perched myself up on his lap. Twenty minutes in, we were both feeling that nice buzz, making us increasingly touchy and lazy with our movements. I didn’t often smoke with Harry, but if I’d known that he got like this then I would have done it more because he couldn’t keep his hands off of me.

I took a drag of the spliff, keeping steady eye contact with Harry, while one of his hands roamed up my dress. Once I was satisfied, I leaned in closer to him and he parted his lips, letting me blow the smoke into his mouth. Harry smiled at me with hooded eyes.

“Imagine I let my hands move up more,” he teased, prodding at my skin. “In front of all these people.”

“That’s filthy,” I told him, despite not stopping his movements because it felt too good to care about who was out there and who could see us.

“I want to,” he whispered. “I wanna keep moving my hand up and then I could literally feel how bad you want me. Do you want me?”

I nodded my head, squirming in his lap for some friction and leaning into kiss him, while he took the spliff from my hand. If he kept this up, I wouldn’t be opposed to letting him take me somewhere in the bushes. Harry didn’t, though. He kept his hands where they were, not moving them up any further, and we finished the spliff together.

“I’m parched,” he mumbled, like his mouth was full of cotton. “And hungry.”

“Me, too,” I said. “Reckon there’s food here?”

“Nick hides the food during parties. People raid our fridge otherwise.”

“Maybe we could order a pizza,” I said, lifting myself up off of Harry to see what could be done. He made grabby hands at me, not wanting me to leave, so I giggled, bending down to give him a kiss. As I was getting back up, though, I turned without looking and bumped right into Layla, whose drink spilled all over me.

I gasped, looking down at the stain, and let out a groan when I saw how big it was. This was one of my nicest dresses and stains usually didn’t come out when the fabric was delicate. “I’m so sorry,” Layla apologized, trying to grab tissues from her purse to dab at the spot.

“It’s alright,” I said, trying not to pout. The damage was done and I’d have to take this to the shops to see if they knew how to get it off. Harry stood up, then, examining the damage.

“You can go change into some of my clothes from upstairs,” he offered.

“I guess I could. Might have left some of my clothes here, anyway,” I replied.

Harry fished for his keys in my pocket and handed me the one for his room. Layla apologized to me once more, looking really guilty, before I was able to find my way upstairs. Fortunately, I’d left a pair of joggers in Harry’s drawer from the last time I slept over and pulled them on with one of his white t-shirts. I was definitely not overdressed anymore for this scene.

Once done, I exited Harry’s bedroom, remembering to lock it behind me. I headed back downstairs, walking past three girls who were stood on the stairs. They didn’t bother looking up to notice me going by, too caught up in whatever it was they were talking about. I wouldn’t have paid them any mind, either, because girls were always coming in and out of the frat house, parties or not, and they were usually very cool and did their thing. However, that was until I heard one of them mention Harry.

I slowed down my steps, trying to strain my ear to hear them over the loud music. “Have you seen him around?” one of them asked her friends. “Harry, I mean.”

“Not since a little while ago when he was in the kitchen with Louis,” another replied.

“He looks fucking fit tonight. That blazer and those jeans. And hats don’t usually work on boys, but he somehow does it. How does he fucking do it?”

“When doesn’t he look fit, though?” girl number 3 questioned. “Would love to take a shot with him or summat.”

“More like you’d love to take a shot on him,” another one giggled. “Too bad he’s taken, though.”

“Oh, right,” one of the girls said like she just remembered. “He’s got a girlfriend, now, as far as what Brandon told me. Lucky her. This birthday party’s for her, innit?”

“Yeah, Blair something. Her name’s on the banner. She’s smart, though. Snagged him while she had the chance because God knows if he was single right now, I’d be all over him.”

I took that as my cue to walk away from there in fear of lurking by the end of the stairs for too long and giving myself away. I couldn’t even wrap my hazy head around everything that was being said in that conversation, even though it wasn’t a lot and mostly just drunken banter between some girls, but it was still something. They knew Harry was taken, but they didn’t know me properly, and they wanted him. And as much as I liked acting like none of this bothered me, that didn’t settle well with me. I didn’t like Harry or our relationship being talked about like that in the middle of a party. I didn’t like anything that was being said in that conversation because Harry did look good and I could admit that, but not anyone else. At the same time it wasn’t like I could charge over there and be like, that’s my boyfriend, so shut the fuck up. That would be overreacting because they weren’t doing anything wrong. They were just talking and me being insecure about that was hilarious in the most unfunny way.

And as much as I tried to deny it to myself, the reputation Harry had formed since he broke up with Darcy hadn’t ever settled well with me, despite my hand in helping him create it. The concept or the idea of him and other girls was always enough to bring a heavy weight in my heart with an ugly jealous feeling bubbling in the pit of my stomach. I could never tell Harry any of this either because I’d always played it cool around him. I was his best friend and I couldn’t lash out now just because some girls fancied him or talked about him. He’d think I was being neurotic and paranoid and so unlike myself. Needless to say, even though I knew how Harry felt about me, I still hoped that I stood out amongst the other girls and he thought that I was a little more beautiful -- enough so that he was happy he chose me over all the rest.  

I quickly shook all thoughts of those girls from my mind because this was my birthday and I was going to find my friends and have fun, not worry about silly things. When I walked further into the living room, I spotted Liv. She was sat on a couch alone, drinking straight from a bottle and I worried my eyebrows, walking over to her. She’d been great all day, waking me up by running into my room and screaming Happy Birthday at the top of her lungs.

“Tough night?” I asked her with a quirk of my lips once I’d approached her.

Liv looked up, a tiny smile on her face. “Birthday girl,” she cooed drunkenly. “Come sit with me.” She pulled me down beside her by my hand, our bodies curving together until we were comfortable. “How’s your night going?” Liv smiled at me, eyes still soft and a bit far away. I wondered how much she’d had to drink, but given the fact that she had a bottle in her hand, I could only assume it was a lot. Seemed to be a regular thing with her nowadays, too.

“It’s good, babe,” I said to her, cuddling into her. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” she replied. “Believe it or not, but I think I’ll be alright.”

“Of course you will, Liv,” I said. “Why wouldn’t you be?”

“I’ve just been thinking about some stuff,” she said quietly before looking up to meet my gaze. “I just -- I look at you with Harry and I look at Layla with Niall and I look at my parents and all these people who are in love. And I look at myself and I can’t see that. Not the same way and I don’t know, I’d always wondered if there was something wrong with me.”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” I quickly said. It made me happy that she was finally opening up, but I didn’t want her to get this warped idea that there was anything wrong with her. I needed her to know that. “You just like different things and that’s okay, Liv.”

“I think that’s it,” she said softly, agreeing. “I don’t know -- like -- I guess I’ve always felt different because I remember back in secondary all my mates would be talking about how they kissed a boy with tongue and I realized I didn’t kiss anyone at all till Uni. Isn’t that a bit sad? Like, I’ve never had anyone texting me till three in the morning or sharing clothes like you and Harry do. Never had a boy that made my heart beat loud or my palms sweat, but I think it’s mostly because I never allowed them to do it. I never allowed a boy to come close to me because I’d always been distant and unattached with my feelings because deep down none of it felt real to me. I used to think there was something wrong with me and that all these people are experiencing all these lovely things and I’m not, but I don’t think it’s that anymore. It shouldn’t be, right?”

I shook my head again, curling up against her with my arm wrapped around her middle so she knew I was here. I was solid and I was here and I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. “Liking different things doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with you at all,” I reassured her. “Please tell me you know that now.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I know that. I just -- I was thinking that maybe there is someone out there for me who can make all those feelings in me be real. Who could make me feel something real and feel something real back for me and we could have everything that everyone else does. All the late night conversations and the kisses and the sharing. We could do everything and it’d make up for all the time lost because I’m twenty two now and I haven’t done anything.”

“Well, is there anyone who you think could make you feel something real?” I asked tentatively. “If there is then you could give that person two decades worth of love that you hadn’t given to anyone else and that’s a lovely thought, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, that is a lovely thought,” Liv paused for a moment, her heart thudding against her chest and her breath bated, before she exhaled. “I think that Dylan is nice.”

“I think Dylan is nice, too,” I smiled at her. She narrowed her eyes at me and I giggled, shaking my head. “Not in the same way, but you know.”

Liv blushed, looking down and not quite meeting my eyes. “She doesn’t make me feel lonely or different or alone. And God knows I’d felt lonely for two fucking decades of my life, wondering what it was that I was missing. I tried making up for it by falling in puppy love with all these boys but I couldn’t do it anymore, Blair. I couldn’t keep lying to myself because that wasn’t me. I have so much love in me to give and I was holding it back in my shell. And now I feel like Dylan cracked that shell and I want everything with her.”

My eyes stung as Liv finally confessed to me what I’d been waiting for her to say for weeks. It didn’t matter that she was drunk. She was fully aware, I could tell, and she looked open and vulnerable. It took a lot of courage for her to say that and I couldn’t be more proud of my best friend than I was then.

“Do you know how proud of you I am?” I asked her as she gave me a small smile and wiped my eyes for me. “Like, completely and over the hills proud of you.”

“I know,” she nodded. “Sorry that it took me so long.”

“It’s okay,” I said to her. “It’s all very okay. You’ll be okay. So, don’t worry, yeah? It can only get easier from here.”

Liv nodded her head and pulled me back towards her so that we could cuddle again. It was strange for the setting we were in. People were drunk dancing and taking their clothes off to “Bitch Betta Have My Money” by Rihanna while I was where I needed to be -- with my best friend who’d just crossed a milestone in her life. Coming to terms with her sexuality hadn’t been easy, but she’d done it.

F. Scott Fitzgerald once wrote, “and in the end, we were all just humans -- drunk on the idea that love and only love could heal our brokenness.” Liv felt broken for so long and she’d finally found love that didn’t make her feel like she was one half, but in fact one whole person. And while I knew that you could be your own person on your own and be just as happy and whole, I couldn’t deny that having Harry had made me infinitely happier and complete. I thought back to what my mum always said about love and smiled, because she and Fitzgerald did have a point and I was finally starting to see it.



My eyes fluttered shut at the feel of Harry’s lips pressing against the curve of my neck while he whispered sweet nothings to me. He was turned on his side under the covers with his leg propped in between mine while his hand was splayed over my bare stomach, stroking in a soft, comforting way. “I love you,” he whispered quietly. “I love you more than anything. Hope you had a good birthday.”

“I did,” I whispered back, smiling. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, B,” he said breathily with a small laugh, giving me one last kiss and settling back on his pillow. “Gonna sleep, okay. Super tired. Love you.”

The words love you, too were at the tip of my tongue, just about to roll out when I realized what I was just about to say. My body froze, but Harry gave no indication that he noticed, instead breathing softly while his body pressed tight against mine. The two of us had slipped away from the festivities downstairs a little over an hour ago, quietly coming into his bedroom and not so quietly having sex. It almost seemed to spur Harry on knowing that a house full of party goers could literally hear me moaning out his name, so he kept prompting me to be louder.  

In my lust haze, I’d naturally complied.

After we’d finished, we laid around and kissed lazily until just now when I was seconds away from saying those three words back to Harry. It wasn’t surprising. I knew I was close to falling in love with him. How could I not be? I’d spent the majority of my life chasing after douchebags who never treated me right. I’d always known relationships to be give more, take less. Then I spent a long time resisting, but evidently falling for a boy who finally treated me the way I wanted to be treated, and more so. Harry was amazing to me. He said all the right things, knew when I was upset and was above all else my best friend. He treated me better than any boy ever had.

I couldn’t have asked for anything better.

The only thing that held me back was that I hadn’t said “I love you,” to someone in over three years. Those words weighed heavy because they made me vulnerable and I didn’t always like that. I’d been wary about those words since three years ago when I’d gotten my heart broken. I wanted to avoid that from happening again so I built up defenses and walls and armor and I promised myself I’d be careful the next time I used them. But I wanted to use them with Harry. I wanted to whisper it into his mouth, wanted to say it to him out loud while our green eyes were locked, wanted to scream it on the rooftops of every building in every city.

It was insane because I had been fine for years -- met guys, had my fun and then forgotten them over and over again -- and then this one stupid boy with fucking dimples, curly brown hair and green eyes walked into my life, and I was ready to forget all of that. I had been fine with being just friends with him, really, but then somewhere down the line he must have done something stupid like smiled at me a certain way or kissed me in the pouring rain, and suddenly everything changed.

It felt like my whole life changed in a way. I had plans and I’d envisioned myself to be in a completely different place than I was right then, but I couldn’t picture myself anywhere else but in Harry’s arms anymore. I wanted to hold on to Harry like I was doing right then, his arms and legs entwined with mine for the next twenty, thirty, fifty years. Until the end, really. I thought back to when my Mum asked me whether or not he was the one and after everything, I felt like he could be and that was so scary. The thought of it had my heart racing and I wondered if Harry could hear it in his sleep.

I knew right then that I never wanted to let go of him in any way shape or form. I wanted Harry for the long run because I was so fucking in love with him. I’d been in love with him even before I realized it. I just needed a while to figure it out. But now I had.

“I love you,” I whispered, trying the words and finding that I liked the way they sounded, even though Harry was too far into dreams to hear them.