COMING SOON: Should Bunny Keep Driving?

Baby, don't you know? That you're my golden hour The color of my sky You've set my world on fire And I know, I know everything's gonna be alright.

Your fics are amazing💗💗 so fluffy I'm obessed!!

You're too sweet! 🥺 I honestly don't have it in me to write anything angsty so I'll be happy to remain forever in the category of fluff-induced reads 🥰 Grateful that you've been enjoying my writings, lovely!

Harry + mclaren?!?! THIS WILL BE THE BOMB ISTG

Only the best papaya team for our Bunny! 🧡 But I'll let you decide the final verdict if you'd rather have him in another team once I make the story live just in time for tomorrow's Hungarian GP 🙈🏎️

Bunny in Amalfi

Harry Styles had just popped the question about two weeks ago, binding Sophia and him in the first step to a happy holy matrimony. The two had only been together for less than two years, but when asked, they’ll say time before without each other was just merely a simulation and not real life at all. Harry and Sophia had first met in a print photoshoot, the two models first ever nude photoshoot, and that definitely helped start their friendship in a closer ground with literally no barriers to begin with.

Not even a month later, the two got together as a couple and their genuine chemistry during their first ever nude photoshoot was greatly loved by the public with more fashion brands booking them together as a couple for shoots and runway shows. Being jetsetter models together, it certainly allowed them to become closer in all regards of that word real fast, you will certainly learn and know everything about your partner when travelling in foreign countries outside the usual comfort zone of their home country.

With that being said, most people would probably think that they’ve experienced most of everything there is through visiting all these diverse countries and states. Though Sophia and Harry would like to differ, their work as models is not an easy task at all. They might be on the plane to Rio, Brazil in the morning and then Paris, France in the following hours but that doesn’t mean they were doing it for leisure. In fact, the two can barely even use their regular day-off in a foreign country to sight-see after being so tired the previous day from walking and posing in this direction to that.

So when the newly engaged couple decided to have an unconventional engagement-moon, they didn’t even bat an eye at every comment they got from family and friends alike who think the two should just save the funds for their honeymoon after the wedding. Instead, they packed together the largest single luggage they have in their closet filled with thin summer dresses and pollos and a bunch of different colored and patterned bikinis and trunks all perfect for the sunny Italian weather.

The Amalfi Coast is one of the most exquisite places on earth, and Sophia thinks their early alarm was worth it to catch the ferry ride from the port in Sorrento where their accommodation is at, to go to the bustling city of Positano just around the Amalfi Coast itself to spend the day there.

“Why did we opt to stay in Sorrento but mostly enjoy the amenities of Positano? It’s too early for this ferry ride, Sunflower.” Harry groans, dropping his face on her shoulder to block out the noise of other tourists finding seats within the massive ferry.

“Because there’s too many people in Positano and I don’t like too loud surroundings at night. And because you love me, you said yes without any questions. Is that a good answer for your question, my bunny?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I bet you used the same explanation when you tricked me into proposing to you.”

“Hey, that’s mean!” Sophia lightly swats him on his chest, trying to get his head away from its nestled state on her shoulder. “I didn’t trick you to do anything.” she pouts.

Harry just giggles at her disgruntled expression while finding a comfortable position for his head on her shoulder once again. Harry looks at Sophia’s beautiful bare face from underneath his sunglasses, knowing without a doubt that soon her cheeks would be flushed with a rosy hue just from a small exposure of the Italian sun, making her look more gorgeous, healthy and happy than ever. Harry can’t love Italy any more if it makes his Sunflower radiate contentment, damn the early hours and all that.

“You know I’m kidding, my Sunflower.” Harry soothes Sophia’s frown, hand on her thigh affectionately caressing the exposed skin from her jean shorts, “If anything else, you’re the one I tricked into saying yes.”

“Highly unlikely,” Sophia disagrees, smiling at Harry’s frown of confusion for not getting the bait to tease him. “I think I’ve said yes ages ago even before you dropped on one of your knees in our backyard in London.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asks, even more perplexed.

“What I’m saying is that you’ve got me hooked ever since the beginning, specifically, when you sank down on your knees, butt-naked, in front of my own naked body, and you looked at me from underneath as if you wanted to eat me out in front of our co-workers. How can I not say yes when the first time we met you already thought of a way to secure our future together with a new career if this modelling thing didn’t work.”

Harry smirks, “And what would that be, huh?”

Sophia rolls her eyes, giving Harry a dead-pan look, “You tell me, you’re the one who was stealing hungry looks at my vagina.”

“HEYYY!” Harry chastises her in laughter, sparingly smacking her thigh, “That’s so naughty of you, Sunflower! And this early in the morning, really? While we’re in Italy trying to have a wholesome time together as new fiancés in the serene and heavenly Amalfi Coast? You’re quite racy and that’s very naughty of you.”

“I’m not being naughty. Besides, you say that now,” Sophia snickers, interlocking her hand with Harry’s that’s placed on her thigh, “But don’t think I’d let your wandering hands anywhere near my scrumptious body later, and,” she taps his nose that’s nuzzling her neck for emphasis, “let’s see who’s being naughty when I see that lips and tongue of yours trying to find their way on any inch of my sun-kissed skin later.”

Harry giggles, smiling devilishly up at Sophia just like the first time he did on his knees during their first nude photoshoot, “You know how much I like my buns to be toasted.”

“And that’s you being hungry for my bum, you’re the naughty one.”

***

Much to Sophia’s dismay (well, not really), Harry has had his arms, hands, and attention all-over her the minute they stepped down the ferry. Harry is not one to let his fiancé go down those steep stairs of the ferry without any assistance, much accustomed to always having an arm around her whenever she’s wearing high heels for shows or shoots. That natural instinct to be gentlemanly and attentive to her needs and safety never leaves his system even if Sophia had told him she was alright to walk on her own by the time they’ve reached the wooden ground of the port dock in Positano.

“Also, I can carry our beach bag, you know?” Sophia says to a struggling Harry trying to carry their large Christian Dior book tote containing all their beach necessities and his other Gucci duffle bag consisting of his different camera for the trip, since Harry had apparently decided to be a professional photographer for their engagement-moon. The man can barely walk safely without the fear of tripping even without any constraints given to him.

“What kind of a fiancé do you think I am?” Harry responds, reaching for Sophia’s left hand to intertwine with his’ after getting their things together on his broad shoulders, “I’m here on this trip to show you how much of a doting husband I can be once we’re married already.”

“You already do that, though,” Sophia reassures him, smiling a little when Harry quickened his pace to go down the steps of the port dock before her, so he can help her go down with a study but gentle hold on her hand and arm.

“Thank you, kind sir.” Sophia remarks, doing a little curtsey that Harry returns once they’re on the grounds of the Positano beach itself, “As I was saying, you already are a doting husband material to begin with, bunny. You take it upon yourself to do my laundry when I’m tired, or wash the dishes I’ve left in the sink without being prompted to, heck, you even wash my makeup brushes for me cause you’re wary that I might get a rash if I don't clean it myself. No need to prove anything.”

Harry just shrugs, unfazed as he holds Sophia near him once again, the couple leisurely walking their way to confirm their reservation for their beachside seats, “That’s sweet of you, Sunflower. But maybe you can just let me be chivalrous, perhaps more often than regular apparently, just for this trip?”

“How can I deny my fiancé’s sweet requests?” Sophia replies, not really finding it anywhere within herself to deny any of that, “By all means, show me how you’d dote over your future wife.”

Harry’s smile brightens even more, Sophia thinks it might be even brighter than the freaking Italian sun shining on them.

“I hope you won’t regret saying that, Sunflower. Because I’m going to bloody lavish you with so much affection you won’t even recognize your previous domestic boyfriend Harry in London.”

Sophia simply cackles at his words, letting Harry go about his way to enter the building of the coast-side establishment to verify their reservation. Sophia just stands beside her fiancé the entire time he’s conversing with the beach staff to get what they need and all that, replying to any specific questions Harry asks her like what time they’d want to get their lunch served to them in their beach sunbeds, or if she wants extra towels (which she declines, not keen on using publicly shared towels that are meant to be clean but she’s skeptic about it).

Sooner than later, one of the staff led them towards their assigned beach sunbeds, which in Sophia’s opinion is the best one in the house because it’s conveniently at the front of everyone else's with the view of the Amalfi Coast gracing them just a few feet away. Sophia is genuinely ready to shed all other clothes adorning her sweating body and lounge under the morning sun in nothing but her blue Fendi bikini set. She’s about to suggest the same thing to Harry but when she turns back her attention to him after being captivated by their view, she frowns at what she sees.

“Baby, what are you doing?” Sophia asks her fiancé who’s cute little bum still covered with his own jean shorts (which is very unlikely of him in general especially when they’re on the beach, often she reprimands him for being too much of a nudist for a family-friendly beach), trying to move their sunbeds for some reason.

Harry grunts in acknowledgement to her question, walking to the other side to push her chosen sunbed more to the middle, muttering unpleasantly when he forgot to remove the side table in the middle. Sophia can’t help but be endeared even if Harry hasn’t really explained what he’s doing, and cheers along with him when Harry cheers in victory with his arms raised above him in glee for being able to push both their sunbeds in the middle.

“What do you think?” Harry asks, eyebrows raising up and down comically arms outstretched to showcase his invention.

“Beautiful, really.” Sophia indulges him, jokingly inspecting his work, “You pushed our sunbeds together in the middle?”

Harry drops his arms to his sides, squinting his eyes at her hidden from his sunglasses, “I made a single sunbed for the two of us? So we can be together, and beside each other for our entire stay here this afternoon.”

Chuckles take flight out of Sophia’s lips, always charmed at Harry’s sweet but weird antics. She can’t really completely comprehend Harry’s fascination with wanting to always be attached at the hip with her. Harry consistently found ways to have their makeup chairs to be beside each other during shoots, guiding her to sit on his lap during private jet rides, and even purchased them a baby pink tandem bicycle that Sophia’s not proud to admit how much she had enjoyed her time using it (not that she’d admit it to her fiancé verbally) when Harry had forced her to take it for a ride with him in a nearby park at their London home.

Sophia closes the distance between them, locking her arm around Harry’s neck as the latter wraps his own on her body in a compressed hug. She kisses his pouting lips, their sunglasses covered eyes hitting each other making them giggle at the clanking noise it produces.

“Thank you, bunny, for making us a single sunbed to enjoy. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to undress and enjoy this Italian summer heat in just my bikinis.” Sophia takes Harry’s arms away from her body and gently pushes on his shoulder for him to fall on the sunbed.

Harry whistles suggestively, arms raising above his head watching Sophia unbutton her white linen top, “Ohhh, front row seat for this exquisite Amalfi Coast scenery, and for a live strip show of world renowned supermodel, Sophia Styles? Fucking sign me up for that!”

“Shut up!” Sophia cackles along with Harry, throwing her now unbuttoned shirt to him who squeals in delight like some sort of fanboy that got to catch their idols used bottled water, “And who are you calling ‘Styles’? I ain’t one yet, babe.”

Harry rolls his eyes at her, “fiancé, wife, spouse, semantics! Now would you please continue your undressing performance? I was quite enjoying it.”

“Wow, thanks for even saying please, you cheeky bunny. And FYI, if this was a performance, I’d be charging you heavily.” Sophia wiggles her arse out her skintight denim shorts, the act earning embarrassingly loud ‘whoops’ and cheers from her crazy fiancé.

“HARRY!” Sophia quietly screeches, jumping beside him on the sunbed when she sees and feels other guests looking at their direction. “Don’t do that! You’re seriously embarrassing, people are lookin at us!”

Harry just raises an eyebrow at her, “I don’t know if you forgot, but we’re models who practically get our living out of people ogling at us.” Sophia was about to rebuttal but Harry silences her by placing his index finger directly on her lips.

“Shush, don’t want to hear any complaints from your precious little mouth. Now, rest your cute little bum on that sunbed and enjoy watching me give you a personal undressing performance. Not even going to charge you anything, cause lucky you, I’m your spouse.”

Sophia tries to speak despite Harry’s annoying massive finger in the way, “Not ye-”

“Shut it!” Harry reprimands without any real heat in his tone, squeezing her pouty lips on his finger, “I don’t understand why you’re complaining when I know for a fact you’ve been eyeing my delectable body since we’ve arrived here, waiting for me to shed my clothes off.”

Sophia also doesn’t know why she’s protesting, so he lets his crazy little arse do its thing and welcomes his now bare chest and itty bitty blue trunks back to her arms on their conjoined sunbed. Even in the warmth of their current destination, Harry and Sophia remain to be cuddled-up together relaxing and just lounging about despite the sweat being produced by their slick barely dressed bodies. At some point, one of them would take a dip at the very blue Italian ocean just at their lucky disposal, while the other would continue sunbathing on their sunbed waiting with a fresh towel on their lap.

When lunch time comes around, Harry has just returned from a dip, shaking his wet curl like an excited puppy as Sophia giggly makes him stop while drying him off with his towel. “Can we please have lunch now?” she asks.

Harry plops his wet bum on his seat, hands brushing his springy curls away from his face, “No need to ask twice, I’m positively famished.”

“Good, chop-chop then!” Sophia claps her hands in enthusiasm, laughter spewing from Harry’s lips, “Come on, hop those cute little bunny legs of yours to fetch the waiter.”

“Well aren’t you a bossy little Sunflower?”

Harry follows her fiancé's orders nonetheless, asking one of the nearby staff to kindly call a waiter who can get their orders. The waiter arrives shortly after, standing at the bottom of their sunbed while Harry and Sophia are snuggled nicely on their seats looking at the menu to pick their chosen dishes. At first, Sophia thinks maybe the waiter has recognized who they are as she feels her eyes constantly looking back and forth at the two of them. But then when Harry starts nosing at her cheek and pulling her barely covered body closer to his, big ring-less hands softly caressing her tummy (that were maybe just placed little bit lower than publicly acceptable), when the waitress quickly averts his eyes away from them but quickly looks back like a moth to a flame and then look away again.

Sophia finds that odd, especially when Harry starts to say their orders to her and Sophia begins to affectionately rubs her cheek that’s resting on Harry’s chest, her lips puckering to drop featherlight kisses on the bare skin of his sexy swallow bird tattoo, and their waiter begins to stutter upon repeating their orders to them.

“Sunflower, I think she was uncomfortable from our PDA.” Harry observes, right after their waiter has left.

“What PDA?” Sophia answers, confused but not bothered as she continues to now nip on Harry’s collarbone and broad shoulder.

“This, whatever you’re doing now and a while ago.” Harry explains, his right hand coming up to Sophia’s wet blonde hair to massage her scalp.

“I didn’t see you stopping me now and a while ago when she was here.”

Harry snorts, “Don’t you know me? I’m the affection-starved in this relationship, why will I deny such kind blessings being presented my way?”

“Good, keep being that way and ignore others; it’s not like we were having public sex or something.” Sophia mutters.

“Is that an invitation I hear?”

Sophia laughs at the apparent hopeful expression on Harry’s face, she taps his chest instead as an answer, “Nah, I’d rather receive pleasure through you feeding me with our lunch.”

Harry pinches the little pudge that he loves so much on her stomach, “How kinky of you?”

***

For their second day in their engagement-moon, Harry and Sophia had mutually agreed that maybe they shouldn’t follow through with their initial plan of constantly waking-up early every morning just to catch the ferry going to Positano and the other cities around the Amalfi Coast. Clearly, they had underestimated the wonders that the Italian summer weather may cause to their languid bodies and in addition, the amazing Italian foods have been nothing short but heavenly has only made the couple want to slow down and just laze about while hand-feeding each other with some freshly baked focaccia with a plate of fresh burrata and cherry tomatoes just by their reach. Harry had also impulsively booked them a little luxury yacht complete with amendments for an afternoon sail around the Amalfi Coast.

“I can’t believe I let you do this,” Sophia says to her fiancé who’s also changing beside her to his swimming trunks in the little bedroom inside the yacht. “This must have been so expensive, H. Have you seen the complementary Versace robes and Gucci slides in the living room? Our yacht captain said it's for us to take home, like it’s ours after we use it today.”

Harry looks at her with clear amusement in his features while helping her tie little knots on the strings of her bikini bottom, “I would be surprised if I didn’t know about it since I’m the one who booked and paid for this. Besides, we work for those brands on a daily basis. What's so new about using designer stuff?”

Harry has a valid point, but Sophia’s not here to admit that to him and make him smug. So she just narrows her eyes at him in dissatisfaction and walks back to the living area of the yacht with Harry hot on her trail.

“I do wear designer stuff a lot of the times, thanks to our careers,” Sophia agrees, easily lifting her arms to put inside the said Versace robe that Harry’s holding open for her to wear, “but that doesn't mean I’m going to buy some on my own will without a proper thought over if I really need it or not.”

Harry must have caught-on to what this conversation is going to lead to based on Sophia’s tone, his shoulders now comfortably wrapped with the luxurious material of the robe, deflates. Harry begins to give Sophia an apologetic look, the latter just looking at him knowingly.

Sophia knows they’re not on this trip to argue, but she has to say this regardless of their celebration trip, “I think that it’s just not wise to buy expensive things without thinking twice about it. We’re getting married really soon, bunny. And even though we’re much more well-off than others because of our modelling jobs, it would be really good if we start saving and spending our money in a much smarter and efficient way. You want our future kids to not be burdened by financial challenges while they’re growing-up right?”

Harry’s pouting now, his head still nodding in agreement regardless if he’s being told-off. Harry reaches for Sophia’s hand and gently cradles it on his own. “You’re right, Sunflower. I’m sorry that I didn’t think twice or consult you before booking this luxurious thing.”

Sophia squeezes his hand, feeling the sincerity in his voice, “I know you are, and I forgive you easily. It’s our engagement-moon, so I understand where this want to celebrate and spend is coming from. Let’s just tone it down a bit from here on out on this trip, yeah?. You know that I’d still feel cherished and happy if you decide to take me on a walk around town and act as my tourist guide since you love and know so much more about Italy than I do, my adorable Italian-like bunny.”

Harry giggles, a small smile now gracing his lips replacing his earlier pout, “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. And I’m sorry again, I promise no more spending a lot after this. I’m sorry for dampening our mood on just our second day.”

Sophia begins to frown now, “Hey, no more sorrys, okay? And you didn’t dampen any mood, I’m not extremely mad or disappointed.”

“But you are, lovie. At least a little bit disappointed in me, and I’m sorry for causing that. I’ll do better, I promise.”

Sophia does not at all like the saddened expression on Harry’s face, no matter how determined he looks at proving himself on committing better choices next time. To soothe his emotions and take his mind away from this instance, Sophia sweetly requests for Harry to apply her sunblock for her out in the deck of the yacht. She knows her fiancé, knows how to use her body (when really needed) as a distraction.

She feels Harry’s aura instantly lift and brighten once again as she’s lying on her front in the wide deck bed of the yacht with Harry sitting on her thighs while his hands apply and massage the sunscreen to Sophia’s skin. Sophia lets him take his time, genuinely enjoying Harry’s relaxing and comforting touch, finding her eyes to naturally close in bliss. It opens wide though when she feels something oddly familiar between her thighs.

“Harry..” Sophia exhales, “What is that I feel on the back of my thighs? Please tell me it’s not what I think it is.”

Without even seeing Harry’s face, Sophia knows there’s an evident smirk on his cherubic face, “Sunflower, I don’t know what you want me to tell you..” and he even makes it a point to press said ‘thing’ further into the skin of her thigh.

And yup, that ‘thing’ is definitely the thing Sophia was afraid of. Especially when she feels that it was oddly hard.

Sophia groans, hiding her face on her folded arms, “Bunny, thank you for your honesty. But may you please tell me, why are you aroused in the middle of the afternoon as we’re innocently cruising around the Amalfi Coast?”

Gone is Harry’s earlier saddened and dejected baby demeanor, now replaced with a promiscuous bunny behavior with his hands continuously caressing her skin regardless that the sunscreen has been fully absorbed by her skin already. Actually, Harry even becomes more brave with his actions and takes it a step further by simultaneously sliding his hands down to her side-boobs as he pushes his groin area on the plump flesh of her bikini bottom covered arse.

“Are we talking about my hard cock?” Harry’s tone laced with downright cheek, gentle wide hands trying to squeeze his hands between the deck bed to cup Sophia’s breasts.

Sophia cackles at the unexpected action, bum raising up in initial shock connecting even more with Harry’s situation earning a squeak from her and a groan from Harry.

“Bunny! Stop!” Sophia squirms from his weight on top of her, successfully positioning herself in a sitting position with her own hands cupping her breasts, eyes narrowing at Harry’s disgruntled and flush look, trying to keep in her giggles at how ridiculous this whole thing is.

But Sophia fails nonetheless, peals of laughter coming out from her in no time, “Did you seriously just get hard from applying sunscreen on my body? Are you a teenager or what?”

Harry raises his arms in surrender, earnestly replying, “I can’t help it. Like, have you seen your body? Anyone from the age of 13 to 100 would get the same reaction, no doubt.”

“Eww..” Sophia’s nose scrunches at the unwanted mental image that gave her, “I don’t want to think about that, nor for people to think and see me like that to get that kind of reaction. Now can you please hand me my bikini top right there beside you so we can prevent that from happening?”

Sophia notices it the moment that something clicks within Harry, like some sort of light bulb turned on in his wits and Sophia can only begin to look in slight horror as the mischievous smile begins to form on Harry’s lips. It’s enough to signal Sophia of his next actions and she quickly tries to reach with one of her short arms her bikini top.

“I don’t think so!” Harry quickly sprang into action and snatched Sophia’s bikini top on his grasp, using his long arm to block her way.

“Bunny! What the heck, give it to me!” Sophia screeches, tightening her crossed arms across her naked chest as he tries to chase around a running Harry who’s laughingly flailing her white bikini top on top of his head like some sort of victory flag, “What are you even doing? Stop being ridiculous!”

“Am I being ridiculous?” Harry stops on his run, arm still raised above out of Sophia’s reach, “You’re the one who’s not wearing a top, so who’s more ridiculous, really? Me, the virtuous one wholly covered in my robe, or the insane lady trying to chase me around with her bouncing tits barely being covered by her scrawny arms?”

Alright, that’s a direct hit on her now, Sophia thinks as determination begins to flow on her veins, “Did you just call my arms scrawny? Like a synonym for skinny?”

Sophia laughs evilly in her head as the ever-present smug smile on Harry’s features doesn’t seem so present anymore upon seeing a change in her air. But her fiancé is nothing but a banter-loving and a self-proclaimed menace from birth till death. So it doesn’t surprise her when his smile returns, delinquent tones in ten folds.

Bravely, Harry replies, “I did. What are you going to do about it? Gonna hit me with your skinny and weak arms?”

Sophia basks in the witch-like cackle that she lets out, arms covering her breasts dropping to her sides in an instant. Her smugness gains in momentum as Harry’s eyes follow the now revealed clear skin of her breasts, dark rosy nipples his definite kryptonite.

“Yeah, I think that’s exactly what you want me to do.”

And then they’re having a full-on chase around the entire mini yacht, Sophia no longer giving a fuck if their captain or the godforsaken creepy paparazzi get a handful look of her tits as long as she gets to keep hearing Harry’s loud, dulcet laugh ringing in her ears forever. There’s nothing sweeter than hearing the tangible laughter of your lover’s happiness, one that you’re even the reason behind.

***

The couple made sure that their time in the luxury yacht will be one of the bestest and finest experiences they’ve had in Italy. Sophia thinks it’s only justifiable to ask their captain to slow down or sail back again to a specific spot in the vast clear blue sea of the Amalfi Coast for her to find the perfect background of the beautiful scattered Italian homes and buildings situated on the hillsides to take pictures of, and as her personal background as Harry directs her to pose this way and that; it’s justifiable because it was bloody expensive and Sophia will damn make sure these pictures are worth printing and putting up in their home. Besides, when the sun began to set and lights from from the quaint Italian homes begin to brighten the darkening orange sky, Harry had delicately pulled her body to his, suddenly kissing her pleasantly without any prompt as Sophia heard the unmistakable click of a self-timed shutter in one of Harry’s fancy digital cameras. That one for sure, Harry would get printed once they’ve landed back in London.

Though all those lovely moments are now kept stored in Sophia’s Harry=Happiness memory bank, their third day in Italy is now her main priority. True to Harry’s predictions, Sophia has been thoroughly tan already this early on in their trip to the point that too much exposure to the sun kind of hurts unpleasantly already, Harry not faring any better. So as they took turns applying cool aloe vera gel in their heated skins last night, the couple had discussed to veer away from the sea and the beaches for their third day, and instead have planned to have a stroll around the less-crowded streets of Sorrento and to shop smartly at the local stores and markets.

That’s their current agenda in this moment, Sophia contently swinging Harry and hers clasped hands between them as they leisurely walk and sightsee the warm toned sceneries offered by Sorrento. Sophia giggles for the nth time this early in the morning when Harry once again whispers in her ears how effortlessly graceful and lovely she looks in her short yellow slip dress with hot pink flowers scattered around it.

“And, I think it was a prime decision to use this hot pink Prada re-edition 2000 nylon mini bag.” Harry adds, dropping a little kiss on her temple.

Sophia quirks her eyebrow at him, “You’re just saying that cause you’re the one who suggested it.”

“Okay, but it was done out of a reasonable explanation beca-”

“Because it perfectly matches the shade of pink of the flowers in your/my dress.” Sophia cuts in and joins Harry to mutter the exact same sentence he had said ever since the instant that she’d dressed comfortably in his presence earlier this morning.

“I see, you’re learning.” Harry jests, nosing at her cheek endearingly, “Now, I think I’m seeing a ceramic store just a few feet away from us. Let’s check it out so I can teach you this time the different kinds of plates and dishware and their specific usages.

Sophia doesn’t want to ruin his merry parade by saying there’s no need nor space in her brain to retain that kind of information, and instead allows Harry to guide her to cross the street and enter the local ceramic shop with the ever gentleman her bunny is opening the door for her.

The minute the couple has made it inside, Harry takes it upon himself to tour her around the shop and point and hold for her the specific dishware he’s describing (which she quickly intercepts and holds the fragile ceramics, knowing how clumsy her fiancé is), quite impressing Sophia by the abundant knowledge he has about bloody plates and bowls. Harry was probably talking too loudly, like every time he gets excited and passionate about something (like green drinks and rings) because the store owner approaches them and begins to speak in Italian.

Since Sophia only knows the most basic (if any at all, to be blatantly honest) of Italian, she lets Harry take the reins for this conversation as she nods and shakes her head in what she assumes is the appropriate time for it, picking the pieces that catch her fancy. Since they’ve agreed to spend wisely, after Harry’s chat with the kind store owner who had recommended the best of his works to them, Harry and Sophia are now in the till getting their chosen ceramics wrapped and paid shortly after.

“Why did you get two salad bowls?” Harry asks upon seeing it getting wrapped, “I think we already have a bunch at home.”

Sophia shrugs her shoulders, “I couldn’t pick which design I wanted the most. Like I love the vibrant yellow tones of the intricate lemon patterns on one of them, and then I also adore the detailed lemon tree on the other. Couldn’t just buy one and leave the other on the shelf.”

“Well did you not learn anything about the specific functions various dishware can be used for? Like, don’t you think we can make more use of mugs than salad bowls since we already have so much of them in our cupboards?”

Sophia smiles, cupping Harry’s left cheek and tapping it lightly, “Bunny, I’m buying them for their looks, not their functions. And please, you can’t fool me into buying more mugs for your mug collection in our cupboard. I’m not the only one who likes to hoard specific ceramics.”

Harry laughs loudly at being caught, dimples popping easily creating picturesque craters on his adorable cheeks, “Alright, looks like I’m marrying a salad bowl hoarder. How lucky of me.”

Sophia reaches up on her tip-toes to press a kiss on his smiling lips, “And I’m also lucky for getting the chance to marry a mug hoarder. I love you.”

“I love you too, my Sunflower.”

Their time in the ceramic shop ends after that, the two finding themselves in the narrow streets of Sorrento where some of the market stalls are located. Once again, Harry takes the lead of conversing with the local sellers to find the best deals and varieties of the goods they’re selling. At the moment, they’re stopped at a stall selling locally planted and harvested goods from the owner's private farm here in Sorrento. Harry has about tasted every variety of their homemade cheese, has bought a carton of their farm-grown chicken eggs, has chosen the basket of tomatoes of his liking, and is currently taste testing different lemons, which in Sophia’s honest opinion, isn’t even necessary, how different can each slice be when a lemon is simply just a lemon?

Nonetheless, Sophia lets Harry be, content in looking around her lively surroundings with her thumb clicking pictures away from her phone of anything that captures her attention in this quaint Italian market. Everything was going dandy, until Sophia notices that the stall owner that Harry has been conversing with, leaves to attend to another customer who seems to be a local and a regular based on the rapt attention the owner gives. Replacing his spot is a woman who she assumes is his daughter based on their distinct physical similarities, who eagerly attends to Sophia’s finances like a schoolgirl trying to do everything in her ability to please her crush.

Sophia might not be knowledgeable in Italian, but she is fully adept and a master of the language of flirting. Just one look at the woman’s pink cheeks, and eyelashes fluttering so much and so fast like she has some sort of a blinking disorder, Sophia already knows this woman is up to no good.

Because of the nature of their job, both Sophia and Harry are quite familiar and relaxed with the attention they receive from others, despite the fact that they’re souls are pretty much entwined for life and suggestive looks and advances from others are some of the things they’d like to receive much less of. Thankfully, their very affectionate nature translates greatly to the public, and actual flirting and suggestive advances have been very minimal. But of course, there’s just some special incidents that they’re present, like this instant.

Sophia’s not a jealous person, not at her core. However, there’s a new sense of possessiveness that seems to have been newly ingrained within her ever since Harry asked for her hand in marriage. She doesn’t know what it is, but every time she looks at her left ring finger and sees that glimmering rock safely and tightly nestled there, makes her feel extremely jovial with an added mixture of feeling powerful, like she now has the official rights to everything she desires, especially Harry’s love and devotion.

With narrowed eyes, Sophia’s determined to show this Italian woman who Harry belongs to. No matter how harmless her flirting might seem, Sophia does not take it lightly when she sees the woman had the audacity to hand-feed Harry with the sliced lemons. The uncomfortable look on her fiancé's face when her fingers forcefully prodded at his lips to open up, makes irritation crawl at Sophia’s skin.

Nobody gets to fucking do that, except for me, Sophia thinks as she unclenches her balled-up fists and finally strides to Harry’s personal space to save him.

“Bunny,” Sophia drawls much loudly than necessary based on their already too close proximity, “May I please have a taste of the lemons?” she asks prettily, the same tone she uses whenever she wants Harry’s undivided attention but is too shy to ask for it directly. Also, remembering to use proper grammar (‘May, lovie, not can!’ As Harry had expressed every time she kindly asks him to turn the lights off in their room, Sophia not giving a single shit to her grammar when all she wants to do is sleep) knowing how weirdly endeared Harry gets when she does it.

The tone always makes Harry so soft for her, never one to hide his naturally excessive affection and attention towards her especially when Sophia’s asking for it.

The same thing happens here wherein Harry’s lips instantly quirk up, aura instantly pliant, answering her willingly, “Of course, my Sunflower, anything you want you may get from how polite you are. Here you go,”

Harry tries to reach for a slice of lemon arranged on the plate the now frowning Italian woman is holding, however, Sophia quickly cups his cheek to turn towards her face, making sure that her engagement ring is directly facing the Italian flirt. Raising to her tip-toes, Sophia captures Harry’s unknowing full lips in a passionate kiss that their mothers would probably call them out for if they were here, saying that it was definitely too much and borderline rude for public viewing.

But Sophia doesn’t give a fuck, clearly bustling in her skin upon seeing the shock look of affront on the Italian flirt’s face from her peripheral vision. Harry’s perplexed expression greets her triumphed face after she releases his lips with a deep bite on his bottom lip.

Before Harry can verbalize his confusion, Sophia starts to perform the real art of flirting (she thinks this can also help the Italian woman if she wants to flirt more successfully with other innocent Brits on their engagement-moons, she’d accept the thanks later).

Sophia tones down her smile of victory to something more bashful, widening her big blue eyes just enough to achieve that innocent bambi eyes effect. She begins to flutter her eyelashes in no way near the speed that woman was doing earlier, batting it slowly and moderately as she looks underneath her long lashes at Harry. The final killing shot as Sophia likes to call it, is the calculated move of her lips, jutting out at just the perfect angle of a tiny pout. It’s not a sad pout, a mad pout, or an annoyed pout, it’s simply the enchanting flirting pout.

With Sophia’s left hand blatantly showcasing her ring still resenting on Harry’s cheek, she starts to rhythmically caress the slightly stubbled skin of his round cheek, speaking in faint boyishness.

“Thought it would be good to have a little bit of the sweetness of your taste to cut the tanginess of the lemon, you know how much I don’t like sour things, right bunny?”

And it works.

Harry’s earlier confusion is replaced by an intense dazed stare, as if he’s completely under whatever flirting spell Sophia has placed on him. He even nods his head, his own hand rising to clutch her hand that’s on his cheek as if to ground him and prevent him from floating away in her love charm.

“Yeah?” Harry replies just as softly in his slow, deep drawl, “Was the taste of my lips sweet enough to lessen the sourness of the lemon?”

Sophia grins, “Totally. It’s sweet enough that I might consider you buying some of these lemons and making us that lemon tart. Remember, bunny? The one we had right after you proposed to me?”

Harry just nods eagerly like the completely love-dazed bunny that he is, “The one I specifically made with the fresh lemons we bought that day in the farmers market in Hampstead? You know, I made sure to get the less sour ones for you, my love, because I wanted you to remember forever the dessert I made for you after I proposed and asked you to be my wife. You’d let me make us another one? Are you sure, sunflower? Don’t wanna make something that you don’t like that much.”

Sophia coos, Harry’s adorable rambling is utterly charming, “I’m sure, bunny. I’d eat anything you make because I love my fiancé a bunch. Besides, I think this kind lady selling you lemons will highly appreciate you purchasing some, yeah?”

The couple turn their attention to the Italian woman after being submerged in their own flirting world, this is the first time Sophia actually gets a good look at the woman after she had started her conniving ways to show the Italian flirt that Harry’s very much taken care of already. And boy, is Sophia having a hard time to control the smug expression trying to emerge on her features as the Italian woman is positively seething and red-flushed in her rooted position with the plate of lemons still on her raised hold.

The woman begins to speak in Italian very quickly to Sophia’s amusement and lack of understanding a single thing that left her lips. She thinks she doesn’t mind it though because it seemed to quicken their time spent here as whatever the woman said prompted Harry to finally choose the lemons he wants and to pay for the other things he had picked earlier. The next thing Sophia knows, the Italian flirt huffs indignantly at the two of them right after Harry has said his thanks and held her hand securely with his free one.

***

So, Sophia might have not taken into consideration the consequences of her art of flirting and possessive display of affection at Harry earlier. She doesn't know how it slipped her mind that Harry gets extremely turned-on whenever she overtly acts minx like.

The sexual tensions radiating out of her bunny was quite palpable the moment they made their way back to their rented Italian villa, the lovely and jittery Harry expressing quite simply that he wants to just go back at their place when Sophia had asked him where they should go next in the town of Sorrento.

It hits her why he wants that when Harry all-out attacks her with his skin-burning and soul-tingling kisses when they’ve finally arrived at the confines of their villa, pushing her back right against the closed front door, his own body pressed firmly against hers.

Their passionate kissing halts as simultaneous moans of pleasure escape their bitten-red lips when Harry’s tenting shorts rub against Sophia’s pulsing hot heat underneath her dress.

“Fuck,” Harry rubs against her again more purposely, the two moaning in unison, “Feel what you do to me, sunflower? You got me fucking rock hard from your little possessive stint there at the market earlier. Don’t even know why you got jealous, but shit, my fiancé’s hot when she’s jealous.

Sophia clings to Harry’s body even more, rutting up against him eagerly in the little rhythm they’ve started, “I honestly don’t know either, but the moment she started her horrible flirting on you, I just badly wanted to show her you’re mine. Fuck, oh bunny, keep going that’s so good.”

Sophia does not even care anymore if all they do is rut up against each other, fully clothed like teenagers sneaking around and trying to literally keep it in their clothes while still wanting to get each other off. It’s honestly surprising to Sophia that Harry’s will power seems to be much stronger than she initially thought with his extremely love-dazed loopiness from earlier. A shocked loud moan erupts from her when Harry picks her up all of a sudden, her legs and arms wrapping tightly around Harry in instinct as he carries her to somewhere she doesn’t know and mind at all as long as kissing and the caress of Harry’s lips on her heated skin never stops.

With her eyes closed, she gasps in surprise as the distinctly familiar Italian summer breeze hit her physique, knowing well enough now that Harry has definitely brought them outside their private veranda overlooking the surrounding nature and the roofs of the other villas who also had their own verandas that are slightly in-view of theirs.

Harry places her back on the ground, gently yet expertly maneuvering her body around with lips sucking bruises on the back of her neck as he guides Sophia on the railing of their veranda, her hands finding purchase on the cold metal with her bum slightly raised due to Harry’s clever hands holding them up in place, and he resumes grinding his crotch to hers in this new position with Harry on her back in full-control.

“Yes, fuck..” Sophia moans when Harry wraps an arm around her waist to keep her body up-right with her back pressed tightly on his heaving front. “More, bunny. Give me more.”

Sophia feels the smirk on Harry’s lips at the side of her neck, probably finding it amusing when she tries to move her lower body to chase the friction of their privates rubbing together that Harry has momentarily slowed down.

“Look at you, so eager..” Harry grants her one rough grind of his extremely hard cock, making sure to add the most pressure on her covered sensitive bud, the loud moan Sophia exhales quickly turns into an agitated whine when Harry withdraws any friction yet remains in contact with her pulsing cunt.

“Sunflower, you might want to slow down and keep it quiet, yeah? We don’t want you starting another scene if the other patrons in their villas hear you.” Harry whispers teasingly in her ear, his broad wet tongue salaciously licks her lobe.

Sophia grunts, tries to wiggle her bum to get the friction back. Harry’s strong hold around her waist prevents her from succeeding. “I don’t fucking care, bunny! Let them hear me getting fucked so good, that way they know I’m appreciating what’s mine cause my bunny is only mine to get fucked on.”

“Hmm, you’re the only one who I get to fuck and who gets to love me and praise me for it, is that right, lovie?” Harry hums, his left hand slowly making its way underneath her dress to which Sophia wishes lands on the place she wants his touch the most.

“Yes, yes.” Sophia nods wantonly, “You’re the only one, bunny. My only fiancé that gets my body feeling so good I can’t stop screaming how good you are, always gets me so fucking speechless-dumb from how good you give it to me, bunny.”

Harry chuckles darkly, left hand swiftly sliding down Sophia’s small little panties, cupping her already slick-leaking pussy which elicits a loud pleased moan out of her.

“You really know how to use your sweet words against me,” Harry remarks, middle and ring finger parting her lips to rub slow yet firm circles on her highly sensitive clit. “Guess I’m not the only one who gets stupidly love-charmed, huh? You’re gonna take everything I’ll give you and be my best girl by screaming your little lungs out to show how much you love it?”

“Ohh fuck, oh my god..” Sophia moans in instant pleasure not only due to Harry’s nimble fingers toying with her sensitive nub, but his salacious words don’t help either in slowing down the steady stream of her wetness ruining her designer underwear.

“I haven’t even started my special moves on your body yet, and you're already lost for words like I’d already performed my highly acclaimed fuckery skills.”

Sophia knows she shouldn’t, but she can’t help the loud laugh that erupts from her still aroused body at what Harry had just said. She’s not sure what’s she’s done in the past to be so lucky to have a boy that’s both lewd and ridiculously weird when it comes to sex.

“Special moves, and highly acclaimed fuckery skills?” Sophia quotes back, now thankfully reduced to giggles instead of howling laughter, “Are shitting you me, H? Why would you say that at this specific moment we’re having? With your hand literally on my cunt?”

Harry to his credit, chuckles with her and not at all offended at her reaction, “Just wanted to hear your melodious laughter before I ruin you to well pleased tears.”

Sophia was probably busy laughing her head off from Harry’s earlier statement because she genuinely did not feel nor hear him remove any of his clothes and yet his left hand had suddenly disappeared from inside her panties and is now slipping the crotch to the side, with the head of his cock pressing the surface of her folds.

Sophia moans in actual, unadulterated surprise, “Fuck! You’re magic, ohhh god more.”

Harry chuckles at her surprise reaction, though moans in pleasure just the same as he continues to rub his pre-come leaking cock on her pussy lips without breaching inside her warmth yet.

“See, I told you I have renowned fuckery skills.”

Sophia grins despite Harry not being able to see her with his face squished at the side of her neck leaving kisses, kitten licks, and sharp quick nips with his teeth.

“Fucking put your prick inside me already and I might just agree wholeheartedly with you.”

Harry groans in rapture, sucking a surely big and deep bruise on her neck, distracting Sophia for a second to what she had wanted. And when Harry suddenly plunges his prick inside her, it surprises Sophia so much that she jumps a little from the intrusion with her upper body falling forward and her hands finding purchase on the railings of the veranda. Thankfully Harry’s arms around her prevented her from face-falling to the ground, the latter hoisting her body upwards again as he thrusts his cock deeply inside her.

“Can’t go anywhere, sunflower.” Harry moans to her ears, enthusiastically pounding into her sweltering hot cunt, Sophia keening in pleasure as every time Harry thrust out before deeply thrusting back in, she feels her own juices flowing down to her thighs. The squeaky, wet noise of their bodies gyrating and thumping roughly together, added with the obscene sounds of the skin of Harry’s balls slapping the glistening hood of her clit, is everything that Sophia can hear in her lust-blown state.

“Not going anywhere, don’t wanna fucking go anywhere, ahhh shitt that’s so good oh my god, keep fucking that prick into me!”

Sophia’s ardent shrieks of pleasure probably affects Harry’s similar burning state of desire, his hips increasing its pounding speeds and hitting her pussy walls even deeper to the point that the couple abruptly stops in surprise when they feel his dick pressing all the way in Sophia’s stomach.

“Oh my god, you’re in my stomach, jesus fucking christ that’s deep,” Sophia mewls loudly when Harry resumes his movement with an experimental thrust, likely trying to make sure that it doesn’t hurt for her when he pounds this deep up to her stomach.

“You like that? Feeling my dick in your belly?” Harry the smug fuck that he is, even places a hand underneath Sophia’s bunched up dress to press his bulging dick on the skin of her stomach, Sophia screaming in utter euphoria. “I know sunflower, I know. It’s so fucking good that you can’t even say anything coherent anymore, huh? God, I can feel your pussy squeezing me and fuck me, your leaking wet cunt makes me just want to devour you after this.”

Sophia begins to return Harry’s thorough, rapid impaling of his dick on her positively pulsing vagina from his pistoning position from behind her, moaning and whimpering incessantly as she tries to find some simple words to say, “Uhh..nrgghh..noo, keep fucking, ohhh come please.”

“Come? You wanna come?” Harry parrots back, Sophia nodding vigorously with non-coherent pleads leaving her kissed-bruised lips, her body bouncing frantically to Harry’s rabid thrusting inside her, all thoughts laser focused on chasing her high.

Harry’s left hand returns to toy on her clit, rubbing furiously in time with his pounding, Sophia involuntarily shuddering at the intense sensations, “You can fucking come on my prick, yeah? My sunflower is so lovely and so good that she can release her cum anytime she wants. You gonna come, sunflower?”

Sophia feels overwhelmed, her gut clenching to the familiar feeling of her near release, “Yes, so good, bunny’s so good.” she babbles without thought, making Harry chuckle despite their fanatical fucking.

“Thank you sunflower, I know you're good too cause you’re going to come for me, huh? You’re going to come cause I make you feel so fucking good.”

If it’s even possible, Harry really starts fucking Sophia like a bunny in heat that not even a minute later, Sophia’s screaming in exultation as she finally comes.

“YES! BUNNY, YES!” Sophia allows her body to release every jubilation she currently feels; might it be in the form of her unrelenting screams and whimpers, the slow stream of highly satisfied tears wetting her cheeks, or the hot, sticky cum gushing down from inside her cunt, down to her dainty ankles. Everything intensifies again when Sophia feels Harry’s dick begin to twitch inside her, pumping his warm cum within her.

“Holy shit.” Sophia tiredly exhales, hearing Harry hiss from behind her as he disconnects his now soft cock away from her vagina, said vagina now begins to excrete Harry’s cum mixing with her own release in a white and viscous liquid slowly trickling down her legs.

“There’s no way that’s only the amount of load I deposited in you,” Harry suddenly says in a tone of incredulity, eyes looking down at the mess on Sophia’s legs.

Sophia snorts in reply, rolling her eyes at his questioning, “Why do you have to ask that? You sound like a total idiot.”

Harry wiggles his eyebrows playfully, “An idiot who gave you a huge amount of cum, now squeeze that beautiful cunt of yours to push-out anymore of my semen that’s still in your tummy cause I don’t want you to get any UTI.”

Sophia feels endeared despite his manner of questioning from earlier, obediently squeezing out more of Harry’s ejaculation resulting the latter to dip a finger on the bubbling white substance on her inner thighs and making a show of sucking his mixed-cum covered finger in front of her.

“Harry,” Sophia widens her eyes at him, “We’re not going again, not gonna happen.”

Harry pouts his now white stained lips, “But I said that I wanted to eat you out earlier. Come on, sunflower. We still have a lot of time left before we go out for dinner. What can we possibly do instead of me having a go with you again? With my mouth this time, though.”

“I don’t know? Maybe we can go to the nearest jewelry shop here to get a ring on that left finger of yours so no other Italian flirt can even think about trying to seduce you again?”

“And lessen the chances of getting to fuck like rabbits again? I don’t think so. In fact, I think we can add possessive/jealous fucking to my list of kinks.

***

Their fourth day in Italy is hot beyond belief.

Not in the ‘hot’ way with Harry following his desires from yesterday of eating Sophia out, but ‘hot’ in the literal sense of the burning temperature.

Despite sleeping in the nude last night, Harry and Sophia had woken-up tangled together from head to toe, the duvet of theirs had seemingly found solace on the floor of their bed if their sweat-glistening skin are any indication that it must have been a literal steamy night. Ever since they’ve woken-up and gotten their bearings, the couple had forgone wearing anything beside Harry in his yellow trunks, and Sophia in her matching yellow bikini set. It was also probably the constant sweltering heat that had affected their lazy mood of the day as moving too much resulted in exerting more energy, which led to letting out more sweat.

So for their fourth day, Harry and Sophia had comfortably settled in the confines of their Italian villa, mostly residing in the comfortable, decent sized living area, or when it’s really too hot inside, the two lounge around the open-area of their veranda in one of the two lounge beds located there. Much to Sophia’s dismay, her evidently sweaty skin does not scare Harry away from finally settling down on his own lounge bed. No matter the amount of pleading and whining Sophia performs just to persuade him to stop crowding her already warm personal space, Harry had been keen in staying glued to her side by bringing out a book to read for him and her. Knowing Harry though, he can’t sit still for the life of him especially when he’s chilling time has been reduced to reading which normally, the boy does not do unless it’s late at night and he can’t sleep.

Luckily for Sophia, Harry does end up being restless when after their delivered lunch of fresh margarita pizza and too many different kinds of Italian bread that Harry had stupidly ordered because he apparently, ‘loves bread so much he just had to taste every single one of them’ then proceeds to the bathroom after taking a huge bite of the sixth kind, saying he needed a wee. We all know that’s not the case, and the disturbing wrenching sounds Sophia has overheard when she had passed the bathroom area is enough proof of that. So, a now extremely bread-full Harry does not have it in his sanity to lay back down beside Sophia on the lounge bed no matter how much he had gushed to her the intriguing plot of the roman novel he was reading earlier.

Instead, he leaves a secretly pleased-to-be-finally-alone Sophia with a sweet kiss on her lips as he fetches his expensive camera equipment in their room, presumably to take pictures of her or their current surroundings. Sophia doesn’t mind one bit, content in flipping page after page of the mystery novel she’s reading while sipping on the green juice that Harry had happily made for her after she requested for some afternoon refreshments. The only time her attention was veered away from her book is when Harry calls for her much later in the day.

“Sunflower, look!” Harry excitedly says, he’s standing below one of the large trees that's rooted just outside the veranda of their villa, four round lemons on his hold.

“What?” Sophia asks, lowering the perch of her sunnies on her nose bridge to have a better look at her fiancé.

“It’s a lemon tree!” Harry answers in the same overly enthusiastic manner, “If I had known there’s a literal lemon tree just outside our villa where we can just get lemons for free, I wouldn’t have bought some in the market yesterday so you also wouldn’t have been so threatened by that kind woman.”

“Oh shut-up!” Sophia rolls her eyes at his obvious teasing, his merry laughter leaving no room for her to be actually mad at him.

“What did you call her again? You had a specific name for her.”

“What else, she’s the Italian flirt.” Sophia says in a ‘duh’ tone, “And by the way, I wasn’t threatened by her, like at all.”

Harry’s laughter should really be annoying, especially when the volume increases and the boy even had the audacity to laugh so hard his thumping his own thighs with his big hands, letting the lemons he was holding fall on the ground. He didn’t even give a fuck when they all rolled to the side of the veranda and fell on the holes of the metal railing.

“Why is that her nickname?” Harry begins to speak, visibly trying his hardest to control the giggles from coming out, “Does that mean if I had met her back at home, you would have called her the London flirt? Sunflower, I’m sorry to say but your nicknaming skills lack some creativity.”

“You’re one to talk,” Sophia guffaws, “you named your cat Dusty because you said she still looked ‘dusty’ after you had bathed her for the first time. You’re just as bad at nicknames like me.”

“Now don’t drag my poor innocent cat into the conversation,” Harry chastises Sophia, beaming brightly at her nonetheless.

“Our cat, Mr. Styles. I think marrying means merging assets which includes house pets.”

Similarly to what Sophia had done earlier, Harry slides down his sunnies in the lower part of his nose bridge, then proceeds to give Sophia a deadpan look with a complete one hand resting on his hip like the complete diva that he can be. “Are you kidding me right now? You’re the one who told me I can’t call you by my surname yet cause we aren’t technically married yet.”

Sophia throws him a cheeky smile in return, shrugging her shoulders in a cool as a cucumber expression, “Baby, I didn’t see that stopping you from calling me your spouse for the rest of the day, did it? And if I remember correctly, you booked this villa we’re staying at with the establishment thinking we’re newly weds. Don’t think I forgot the fucking mess those rose petals were!”

Both Harry and Sophia laugh in remembrance of their first day upon arriving in Sorrento. From any of their past holidays together, Sophia was always the one booking their accommodations while he left Harry to plan their itinerary. Except for this engagement-moon, Sophia got super busy with a campaign in New York for the summer jewelry collection of Tiffany & Co. and had no wits left to find and book them a place. Then steps in Harry, the self-proclaimed Italian-expert-I’m-Basically-Half-Italian-At-This-Point and had willingly taken the task to find them a place. The boy had even sent her New York hotel room a goodie basket filled with Italian treats as some sort of preamble to their trip all the way from London.

Everything thus far in their trip had been normal when they had taken their flight from Heathrow to the Naples airport and then their rented car ride from Naples to Sorrento. Sophia’s wariness only kicked-in upon arriving at the reception area of their place in Sorrento, the lady at the front desk instantly referring to them as Mr. & Mrs. Styles despite their lack of wedding. Although, Sophia had thought at that time that maybe the lady had seen their engagement announcement on their respective social media accounts, with Harry literally captioning his ‘The Styles, 2021’ like all the vows and rings have been exchanged already.

Obviously, the main tell of what Harry had apparently done is the bloody amount of rose petals scattered in their villa upon their arrival, with a bunch of lighted candles completing the romantic atmosphere. Sophia had been shocked at the atrocity of the heart shaped rose petals dispersed on their bed with two swan-folded towels at the side of a bucket of ice and champagne, the assorted box of chocolates was also properly present in the selection.

Just like that same day, Harry’s giving Sophia a sheepish look right now, returning her unconcerned shrug of a shoulder, “The honeymoon package was much cheaper than booking us the presidential villa. I think you should even be thanking me right now, sunflower. Since we are starting to save more for our future mini Harrys and mini Sophias.”

The mention of children has always made Harry beam in unbridled happiness, though the mention of their children, makes him shine like the fucking sun. It’s highly endearing and heart-melting for Sophia to see her bunny so excited about building this life together with her, quite literally in some aspects since they are technically going to build life for them to have children.

“Well thank you for that, lovie.” Sophia relents with a grin, “Now may you please tell me why you called my name in the first place?”

“Oh!” Harry exclaims in recollection, “I saw the lemon tree and plucked out some of them so I can teach you how to juggle.”

How odd yet lovable can this man-child be, Sophia thinks, “And why do you plan to teach me juggling, bunny?”

“Sunflower, I’m going to teach you to be a master juggler like myself so that during our wedding reception, our first dance as the newlyweds won’t be boring.”

“What do you mean it won’t be boring?” Sophia asked, absolutely confused at what he had just said.

Harry looks at her with this look that he can’t understand why she doesn’t get it yet, making his way to the lounge bed with four new lemons on his hands, “I don’t think I’ve seen a couple do their first dance and then surprise their guests with a juggle break, so, us Styles are going to be the first one in wedding history to juggle during our dance.”

Sophia squawks an absolutely surprised laugh, “You want us to juggle during our first dance? Are you crazy, H? I think why you haven’t seen any other newly weds do such acts it’s because the idea’s bloody demented.”

“Heyyy..” Harry pouts in a whine, “Don’t go shutting down my idea without having a go at it.”

Sophia just snorts and welcomes Harry to her side as he plops his slightly sweaty body beside her on the lounge bed. Harry slots himself under Sophia’s arm and props his face on her chest to give her collarbones a few affectionate pecks, Sophia’s hand ruffling the messy angelic curls atop his head.

“I’m down to learn juggling,” Sophia remarks, “but I’m not sure if it’s a wise decision to mix it in our wedding planning, like I don’t want to hit anyone in the eye if I fail to catch one, heck who am I kidding? I’d probably not catch any of them with how bad my eye and hand coordination can get.”

Harry’s giggles vibrate from Sophia’s chest, “Yeah, I think I get your point. I’d rather not have to remember my wedding as the day my own wife had injured my nan with a flying beanbag that I had to go and take her to A&E.”

“Heyyy, now you’re just taking the piss.”

The couple’s afternoon had moved along from there on. Sophia genuinely allowed Harry to teach her some juggling techniques, which only lasted for a good 15 minutes before Harry had reached the point of having enough body pain for Sophia’s every uncaught lemon hitting him. Though Harry can’t really complain if it got him his fiancé’s delicate and gentle hands rubbing aloe vera gel on every sore area on his body.

When the sky had turned an ombré orange with a tint of pink swirls mingled in the perfect picture of the Italian sunset, Sophia has been charmed by her bunny to stay-in for dinner again, although this time, the two of them will cook their dinner with the array of produced they got in the market yesterday.

In all honesty, Sophia does not like to cook. She won’t proclaim that she’s an absolute shit cook when she’s still able to make a mean cheese toastie and Harry and her favorite soft-centered chocolate chip cookies. Her always on the go lifestyle has also contributed to her lack of time to explore cooking, and if she does have some free time, she’d rather make sure whatever she’s eating would be edible. Harry on the other hand, is kind of on the same boat as she is when it comes to the field of cooking, it’s just that her bunny thinks he has an innate inner culinary genius within himself that he’s yet to properly unleash. So between the two of them, Harry’s definitely the one who subjects himself to overly seasoned or burnt dishes due to his inspiring cooking attempts. Tonight however, would be the first time they will attempt to cook something from scratch together.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Sophia muses as she watches Harry arrange their ingredients in the kitchen countertop.

Harry dismisses her sentiments with a scoff, “What do you mean it’s not a good idea? This is a proper domestic activity that we can use as a practice ground from when we’re married and sharing a house and everything that’s entailed in being spouses.”

“Bunny, we’ve been sharing the same house after four months of knowing each other and I didn’t see you making me any pasta from scratch. I think we’re way past domestic cooking practice, spouses or not. Let’s just accept that we’re two idiots in the kitchen.”

Harry gives her a ‘tsk’ sound, seemingly unaffected by her negative outlook as he proceeds to place an apron on her bikini-covered body, going behind her back to tie the knot. Harry then wraps his arms around her waist with his bare chest flushed against her back, “Baby, will you please stop being so negative and humor me for tonight? We can end up making the most abominable pasta dish and I’d still have the time of my life creating it with you. So don’t worry your pretty little head into anything.”

Sophia sighs in resignation, knowing Harry’s absolutely correct that knowing them, whatever they end up doing, as long as they're together doing the activity, everything will still be fine and dandy. “Well who’s going to have to eat raw pasta noodles with the awfully seasoned marinara sauce?”

“You, obviously.” Harry pinches her bare tummy making Sophia squeak in surprise, “Look how skinny your model body is in that bikini. I say you need more food in you.”

Sophia backs away from Harry’s hug, crossing her arms on her lemon printed apron as she watches Harry put on his matching one, “I mean, we still have that tremendous amount of bread from your little stint earlier so maybe it won’t be that bad if I just stuff my face with more gluten to mask the awful taste.”

“Will you look at that!” Harry claps his soapy hands in glee as he’s so keen on getting the cooking started that he’s began washing his hands, “My sunflower being more positive of the situation already, keep it up buttercup!” and he lands a swat on the bare cheek of Sophia’s bum while it was the latter’s turn to innocently wash her hands after him.

“Bunny! Keep your hands to yourself, mister.”

“Or else we might not get any cooking cause you’d rather I keep the spanking in our bedroom?” Harry wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, one hand leaning on the kitchen counter highlighting his bulging biceps.

“No,” Sophia passes by him to get his Ipad where the recipe of their dish is located, “it’s or else I’d make you use your hands to knead the pasta dough all by yourself.”

“Psh,” Harry flicks his right hand like that’s no big deal, “I’d probably do a better job at it by just doing it all myself.”

“Now’s not the time to get too cocky,” Sophia amusedly inquires, reading the pasta dough recipe on the screen with Harry’s chin perched on top of her shoulder to read along, “this seems quite easy, but there’s surely a catch here somewhere.”

“Don’t get all bloody detective-like on a pasta dough recipe, sunflower. This isn’t a mystery case trying to be solved like the books you love to read.” Harry says, while Sophia laughs along with Harry’s accurate observation.

The two go on with actual cooking instead of just discussing and bickering like the old married couples they’re truly destined to be. Harry places the flour, eggs, olive oil, and salt in front of the two of them, beginning to pour the flour on the kitchen surface to create their flour wall.

After he’s done that, Sophia leaves him for a second to get a bowl where they can crack and beat their eggs on. When she returns, it’s to the scene of Harry attempting to crack an egg to place it directly on the hollow center of their flour wall.

“What are you doing?!” Sophia asks horrified, quickly crossing the distance between them, halting Harry from his action in surprise, “I just got the bowl for our eggs, why are you putting it directly on the flour?”

Harry frowns at her in return, “Because that’s how it’s supposed to be?”

“But I didn’t see that specific instruction on the website we’re reading the recipe at.”

“Well that’s what I’ve seen Gordon Ramsay do in that one Master Chef episode we watched,”

Sophia narrows her eyes at Harry, “So you’d rather trust Gordon Ramsay than the woman you’re about to marry?”

“Obviously.” Harry answers straight away making Sophia laugh at his honesty, “You might be the top paid supermodel around the world, but you ain’t the culinary god that Chef Ramsay is. I still love you though and will continue to marry you.”

“Nice save,” Sophia giggles, pecking Harry’s pouting lips waiting for a kiss. “I guess you’re right; I’d rather we blame Gordon Ramsay when this ends up going to shit than myself.”

“That’s the spirit!” Harry chuckles, raising his hand for a high-five which Sophia gladly returns. “Now I’d crack the eggs, add the olive oil plus salt, and then I’ll give you the honors to knead it first?”

Sophia agrees for Harry to go ahead, watching his slow and cautious movement of performing his task. It’s probably not Harry and Sophia’s finest idea to cook their dinner together in just their swimwear because they’re just in step one and Sophia’s already getting transfixed on Harry’s tattoos like it’s the first time she’s seeing it again. Harry’s naked body is enough distraction when she’s doing the thing she knows the most, which is modeling. Getting distracted by Harry’s bareness while doing something she hardly knows any shit about, is probably beyond dangerous than she thinks. Just imagining her bunny looking this hot, bare chested with nothing but his boxers and an apron on while cooking breakfast in their London home for her and by then pregnant belly, she’s unsure if she can go on with her pregnancy if her ovaries already want to explode in that divine moment.

“Done,” Harry says, removing Sophia away from her rather intense imagination, “you should knead it already, sunflower. Before the eggs and oil go everywhere.”

Sophia sees the fragile looking pile of the flour and the liquid of the egg and the oil nestled in its little crater, “Don’t you think we should whisk it first?”

“Yeah, I think that’s the right step to do first,” Harry agrees thoughtfully, handing Sophia the metal whisk for her to use.

Sophia, thankfully knows how to whisk with all the cookie baking she does sometimes without any electronic mixer. Her confidence level was definitely high when she started whisking the eggs and oil together, thinking that it’s only step two and nothing can really go wrong yet. Except it does. Just a few whisks in, their flour wall seems to not be so sturdy and it can’t absorb all the liquids making the slippery substance start to flow on the kitchen countertop instead of staying in the flour like it’s supposed to. Harry and Sophia look at each other in panic.

“What do I do?!” Sophia exclaims in a frenzy upon more liquid escaping their flour wall.

“Start kneading it already so the liquid ingredients get incorporated with the flour!” Harry replies in the same panicked nature as he watches the slight horror unfold.

“Alright, alright!” Sophia acknowledges hurriedly, ready to get the business done with her hands except that she catches a glimpse of her shining engagement ring and she just can’t knead a wet and slippery pasta dough with that majestic thing getting contaminated.

“Lovie, can you please take off my ring?” Sophia requests holding out her left hand to a confused and frowning Harry.”

“Why would I do that?!” He asks in disbelief, “You never take off your ring wherever you go. Heck, you’ve never taken it off since I placed it there!”

“Bunny!” Sophia groans thinking that it’s really not the time for his drama, “I don’t have the time to listen to your dramatic monologue, I need this ring off so it doesn't get doughy-wet and oily. Will you please just remove it before we have no pasta dough left to knead?”

“But,” Harry looks conflicted at her urgent request, “But that ring’s super special! That’s like the embodiment of my undying love for you and how that will never leave, and then you’re just going to want me to take it off of you? Sunflower, that’s like sacrilegious in my books becau-”

“HARRY! JUST TAKE THE BLOODY RING OFF FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

The yelling seems to do the trick, Harry following her order just like the obedient husband that he aspires to be. Though some petulant looks were still thrown Sophia’s way as both of them started to knead the thankfully, the now tangible pasta dough. Harry’s pouting definitely diminished by the time they were able to successfully portion the pasta dough equally, letting it rest for thirty minutes as they now shift their attention to the Italian marinara sauce.

“Do you think we’re pros now?” Harry asks Sophia as they take turns washing their messy hands, “Like should we start calling our managers to book us some guestings for cooking reality tv shows so we can show those arrogant chefs that gorgeous models like us can cook too.”

Sophia chuckles in reply, gladly letting Harry dry her hands with the same dish towel he used to dry his, “It seems to me you’re just as arrogant as them if you think making pasta dough without even turning it to pasta yet makes us an instant pro at the kitchen.”

“Well maybe it is,” Harry supposes, “but I’m pretty sure I’d make a more exceptional marinara sauce than those guys.”

Sophia provides a non-verbal response in the form of a hum. Harry might not have made her any pasta from scratch in the past, but he has helped his mother countless times in making this Italian marinara recipe that they’re going to be using tonight every time Anne has invited them over at her place to feed them with homely and hearty meals that they’re missing in their own flat. Though Harry has yet to make it all by himself, Sophia knows it’s still worth something that he already took part in the making of it, which raises the chances of it being edible which really, is the only thing they’re hoping for.

Because Harry has usually done the prepping of the ingredients before, he delegates that task to Sophia as he takes the reins of cooking it on the stove. Chopping a huge amount of tomatoes is a task Sophia would rather have than anything relating to a heat source which has the tendency for her to burn something. With that being said, let’s not forget her awful hand and eye coordination at the earlier juggling escapade, a knife replacing the position of a lemon should certainly frighten her and Harry.

“Chop slowly,” Harry instructs her for the nth time, his regular slow deep drawl that usually calms Sophia down is starting to irk her right now.

“Yes, I know, bunny. You’ve just told me a million times in the past ten seconds.” Sophia replies, right hand raised with her palm upwards waiting for Harry to hand her the knife cause she’s apparently some child who can’t be trusted with sharp objects.

“I’m just making sure, baby. Don’t want you getting any scratches or god forbid, cuts on your fingers. That just won’t do.”

“I know, and I love you for caring so much about me, now can you please hand me over the knife?”

Harry still has a hesitant look on his face, “You promise you’re going to call for my help if there’s anything you don’t know how to chop?”

Sophia nods her head, smiling sincerely at her fiancé who’s overbearing protectiveness that as much as she would like to get irritated with, she can’t with how adorable he is. “I promise, bunny. I’m going to drop the knife on the chopping board and ask for your help when I need to.”

That seems to appease Harry’s worries, albeit only slightly, knowing him and his instinctive papa bear tendencies are always going to be there. So he hands the knife carefully to Sophia’s waiting hand before making the short walk to the stovetop.

“Oh, by the way,” Sophia chirps as she starts to make an assembly line of the tomatoes, “I also promise to take great care that none of my fingers are going to make it at our marinara pasta.”

“SUNFLOWER!” Harry shrieks in horror as he wipes his entire body to her direction after facing her backwards tending to the stovetop, “Don’t joke about those things, my love!”

Sophia giggles like the naughty minx that she is amidst the genuine frown on Harry’s face. When the latter seems to second guess his earlier granting of knife access to Sophia, he makes a show of walking back to her to supposedly take it from her. So Sophia, out of pure panic that Harry would take away this chance of her to sharpen her knife skills, raises the knife and points it to a nearing Harry in warning.

“SUNFLOWER!” Harry screams again in terror, arms instinctively raising up in surrender like the sort of thing one does whenever a deadly weapon is thrusted to them in caution. “Please slowly put the knife back down on the counter top.”

Harry’s reaction is what prompts Sophia to realize what she’s done and how possibly dangerous this situation can be. She squeaks in surprise and drops the knife to the floor, the loud clattering sound makes both Harry and Sophia jump in surprise.

“Fuck!” Harry curses, right hand coming to rest on his probably rapidly beating heart if he’s in the same situation as Sophia is (which he should be the one feeling like that since he’s the one that got pointed the knife). “I said slowly, sunflower.”

“Sorry,” Sophia responds apologetically, “Can’t expect me to react otherwise after I’ve realized what I was doing.”

“What? That you just got your fiancé at knifepoint?”

“Bunny,” Sophia whines in embarrassment at Harry’s attempt to exploit her mistake, “I said I’m sorry, please don’t start teasing me right now.”

Harry chuckles as he bends down to pick the discarded knife on the floor, “I think that just serves you right for teasing me first, sunflower. In fact, I think it’s the wise decision to never leave you unattended with extremely sharp objects that can potentially turn an aspiring romantic story of fiancés having their engagement-moon in the Amalfi Coast before they officially tie the knot, turn into a murder mystery of the engaged woman accidentally killing her fiancé while they’re just attempting to make their bloody dinner from scratch.”

Sophia grins in interest, “Wouldn’t that story be a New York’s Time Best Selling novel though?”

Harry’s teasing glint is replaced with a blank face of disbelief, and it’s enough for Sophia to shut her own smile, pouting her lips instead with her chin turned downwards like a scolded child. She seconds the motion and does not even put up a fight when Harry had barely let her chop anything, content in lining the tomatoes Harry needs to chop and properly arranging those he had chopped in a separate bowl.

Just like their earlier pasta dough making, the only mishap they’ve faced is in the first steps of making the marinara sauce, aka: ‘When my fiancé had me at knifepoint in Italy’ is what Harry titles it now and how he said he’d call it when their family and friends ask for stories on how their holiday in the Amalfi Coast went. So overall, besides Sophia's mistake and Harry’s relentless teasing, they finished making the marinara sauce and it is now left in the stovetop to reduce for another hour.

Harry and Sophia return their focus back on their resting portioned pasta doughs, Harry taking it upon himself to assemble the specific parts that they would use in the pasta maker that their villa conveniently stores. The couple had agreed to turn their pasta dough into pappardelle because their logic is the wider their pasta would be, the faster they’ll finish their doughs which also equates to the quicker they’d be away from the face of mistakes.

Sophia makes sure to flour sufficiently the pasta maker, because based from the cookie shows Harry and her indulge in, contestants fuck up when they just sprinkle a little bit of flour on their pasta machine making their pasta dough stick to its metal surface. Harry and Sophia don’t want to fuck up this late in their first cooking tryst, and being able to detect that possible door of mistake before stupidly doing so, Sophia thinks Harry and her are in the right path to becoming kitchen pros as they share a kiss of victory at being able to successfully produce their first strand of pappardelle.

The laughter the two of them share as each pasta strand they finish making is placed on Harry’s outstretched arms after realizing they have no pasta rack, is beyond doubt one of the best moments Sophia’s had in their entire stay thus far in this trip. Harry’s theatrics of dancing around their kitchen using the dangling strands of pasta on his arms and shoulders as some sort of expensive fringe robe. Now Sophia can really see the appeal of why Harry is such a successful model; her bunny can wear and sell anything, even bloody pasta!

“Do you want a matching pasta headband for that fancy pappardelle robe you have on?” Sophia jokes, holding the last few pieces of pasta.

“No thanks,” Harry kindly declines, “I’m already going to have to wash my flour-slicked body more attentively, I don't want my hair being subjected to the same treatment.”

“Yeah, don’t want your angel curls to be mistreated, huh?” Sophia agrees, affectionately reaching on tiptoes to gently tousle his luscious curls.

Harry giggles, “This is the real reason why I didn’t have to wine and dine you the first we met, you fell for the cherubic curls instantly.”

“Good thing you're compensating now by wining and dining me in the romantic and picturesque Amalfi through your own handmade meal. Too bad you didn’t press grapes on the basin with your feet to wine me with your own wine.”

Harry laughs as the two of them begin to remove the pasta strands all-over his body, “Ohh, I’m beginning to think that’s your way of saying that you want a repeat of tonight. Sunflower, are we currently experiencing your culinary awakening? This is monumental!”

Maybe it’s the nature of their trip, an engagement-moon that celebrates their relationship which for Sophia holds much more weight than their coming wedding. Sophia and Harry don’t need a piece of paper to dictate and justify their love for one another, being with each other both mentally and physically, and becoming each other's pillar of strength through troubled and delighted times is already enough. The wedding is more of a gift for their family and friends, to grant them the ability to celebrate their relationship with them.

It’s that thought that resonates within Sophia as Harry and her indulge the surprisingly delicious marinara pappardelle dish of their creation with the side of Harry’s warmed bread leftovers, and a glass of red wine that will soon be refilled for a second helping.

Harry’s correct, this moment is definitely monumental. Maybe not in the same sense as he directly means it, but their night together and every single precious moment they’ve spent on this trip has just made Sophia love and treasure the special relationship that Harry and her have even more. Sophia knows wholeheartedly now, that she’s ready to be married to him, to change her surname to Styles, to merge all their belongings together including their beloved personal pets.

In Sophia’s books, Harry and her are pretty much soul-bonded to begin with.

Okay so I've been looking for some good harry fics and I'm so glad that I found your blog oh my god like I love all the bunny and sunflower name thingy it's so adorable and as I was reading your fics I was like no smut?? okay I'm all in for the fluff but I was wrong excuse me whaaaatttt that scene in sunflower's birthday one was like HOT HOT HOT made my puthy throb like no other smut did!!!!! I wish there were tons of more smut ugghhhh anyways I'm reblogging all of your fics as I finish reading them cause I think you deserve more likes and reblog for these masterpieces 🥺🥺 Thank you sm for your lovely works💗💗💗💗💗

This sweet one made my December first a good one✨

Oh my god, I don't think anyone would understand how heart-melting it is for me to use said pet names for the protagonists of my writings and here you are justifying my feelings 🥺

First of, I want to thank you for your dedication in reading my works, and for the likes and the reblogs that I honestly give the last thought about. I'm here writing these fluffy pieces because it's a form of creative release for me, and it warms my heart that you and others have found it worth your time to read and enjoy 💗

As for the smut content, I'm still sharpening my skills in that department 😅 It takes me the longest to write those parts and it's good to hear that in my birthday piece the smut there apparently isn't cringey as I thought it was. Don't worry though, my series Honey Bunny (and maybe my upcoming holiday fic? 😏) will have those steamy (yet still fluffed-induced) scenes coming your way!

Anyway, absolute appreciation for this pleasant message! Happy reading, lovely! 😻

Bunny's Love on Tour, Literally

Las Vegas, Nevada.

Harry Styles’ Love on Tour, Opening Night.

As Harry Styles’ stylist, it is Sophia’s job to make sure that every single outfit for every single show is being made to her client’s liking and under the scope of what their chosen fashion brand can make. Gucci has always had an amazing relationship with Harry so it wasn’t difficult to meet with Alessandro and the entire Gucci team when Harry and Sophia were conceptualizing each look for the tour with them.

Granted that all looks were to his liking and made possible by Gucci, it is then Sophia’s job that every single look for every single concert is ready a week before the tour is set to begin. This allows her time to fit and check the outfits on her client and make alterations that are needed without the added stress of the time ticking down to showtime.

In Sophia’s opinion, these are the easiest tasks she can have in her life. What’s actually difficult is being the spouse of said client, now that’s a whole lotta different kind of crazy.

As Harry Styles’ wife, she has to endure every stage of planning a successful and safe tour with her husband, feeling the joy and stress that comes with it. It is her job to make sure that Harry is taking care of himself and allotting time with his family and friends who won't be able to see him that much in the next coming months. At the same time, it’s also ingrained in her being to give a tremendous amount of affection to her husband, always there to support him in everything he wants to achieve. However, it’s also in her power to reprimand said husband when he’s being stubborn and a real pain in the arse for no good reason.

That latter one is her current job description at the moment.

Harry and her were having a lovely evening in the cozy confines of their Malibu home. Sharing a big bowl of pasta, Sophia compliments the fresh pasta sauce that Harry got for them when he went to the farmer’s market on the weekend. This prompted her husband to propose a plan of visiting a market in Vegas once they’ve arrived and settled, saying that they had a few free days before show day. That made Sophia remember to discuss the certain changes in her schedule, thinking that Harry would understand why she won’t be able to do that farmer’s market morning with him as she needs to finish a few more things here in LA for her other clients before she jets-off to tour with him around the US.

Basically, Harry did not like the idea of her flying after him, stating things about the dangers it can cause to her safety. To be honest, he really is being a drama queen because what ‘dangers’ is her husband talking about? Harry has always been on the top of his security game, which is what Sophia replies to his concerns.

But Harry remains stubbornly unphased by her reasoning, choosing to make her job as his stylist as his next point of argument as if they just didn’t spend the rest of their day finalizing every detail needed to be fixed on his clothes. Plus, he’s just going to be wearing a vest for the first night, how can he be able to fucking rip that in rehersal, or something?

“Bunny,” Sophia calls for him in a ‘trying to keep my fucking calm’ manner. “Glenne already agreed to accompany me when I fly to Nevada the two days after you do, I won’t be completely alone. Plus security would be there in the first place. You know that it’s also killing me that I can’t fly with you to see the final preparations for the venue, your final rehearsal, and even witness the first-hand initial reaction of your fans once they see this tours’ merchline. I just have a lot of shit to finish with my team here, you’re not the only celebrity I’m styling, baby.”

Harry’s eyebrows just seem to furrow deeper in annoyance, “Isn’t that the reason why you have a team here in LA that you’ve trained so well?”

“I do have a team here, and they are competent enough to shoulder and head my other clients while I’m away on tour with you. But that doesn’t mean we’ve already fixed and efficiently planned down to the details in the next months that I’m gone.”

“Well maybe you should have told me in advance that you need more extra time here before I finalized my departure to Vegas, now it’s all to shit.”

Harry storms off to their living room, leaving Sophia in their kitchen counter definitely not pleased at her husband’s unwarranted stubborn outburst.

She lets him cool-off a bit by himself, giving her time to really think about the cause of Harry’s adamant dislike of her plan. Sophia knows that it’s more than just fears about her safety, and the well-being of his clothes, nor the free time they can’t spend together anymore. She knows her bunny, and he’s not one to get unreasonably snappy and irritated for no reason.

It takes Sophia a whole block of the baked brownies that Harry also got from the farmer’s market (she’s not one to neglect her dessert regardless if she’s having a disagreement with her husband) before the answer came to her so clearly.

Sophia finds Harry sitting on the single swivel chair in their living room, his focus centered at the television playing a season three episode of Hannah Montana; their latest obsession this summer since they’re living in Malibu like that in the show.

She pops her bum on the long couch, trying to catch his attention without verbally calling him. That thought quickly goes down the drain when it receives not even a flinch from Harry, so Sophia thinks the latter is the only way.

“Didn’t we watch this one already?” She asks conversationally, wanting the tense atmosphere to fade. “Can you please change it to a new episode?”

Harry decides to ignore her, much to her chagrin. So she prods him further.

“The remote is on your lap, H. I would think you’d rather do it yourself than me coming near you.” She tries the route of sarcasm this time.

“Whatever.”

Instead of acknowledging her request, Harry forcefully slides the remote on the coffee table to her direction, still keen on keeping his stubborn act against her.

Sophia rolls her eyes at his action, “Bunny,” addressing him in a soft but stern way which indicates that she doesn’t want to fight with him anymore, but she’s also not going to let him continue his unreasonable act.

Harry sighs exasperatedly, “What? I’m minding my own peace here, away from you, and now you’re here ruining that.”

“I’m not ruining anything, if that’s what you think this is then I’m here ‘ruining’ your alone time cause I want to fix whatever problem we’re having here.”

“Good luck with that then, cause nothing’s going to be fixed unless you decide to follow our initial plan of flying out together with the team to Vegas.”

Sophia sighs this time, more out of tiredness than being really angry at her husband’s current difficult attitude.

She stands up from her seat on their couch, walking the short way to Harry’s seat and straddles his left thigh to position herself on his lap. Her arms wrapped around the back of his neck, face finding its way there too as she hugs him to her.

Sophia knows her husband in every surface and crevices, knows that even when they’re in argument, Harry will not and cannot ignore her blatant affection especially a cuddle. It brings a small smile of victory on her face when she feels Harry’s arms wrapping themselves around her body like a knee-jerk reaction.

“I know you’re not being unreasonably stubborn and mean right now because of all the things you’ve been saying earlier,” Sophia softly says, her warm breath hitting the skin of Harry’s neck.

“I get that you’re worried about my safety, love it even that you appreciate me that much.”

“It’s my job,” Harry replies just in the safe soft tone, “I’m your husband; it’s one of my main priorities in life, if not the most important one.”

“Yes bunny, I know that, can feel your love and attention all the time,” Sophia places a small peck on his jaw in acknowledgement and gratitude at his words. If she was to rate Harry’s job of being a husband, it would only be of stellar remarks without a doubt.

“But, as your wife, it’s also my job to worry about you especially when I know that you’re worried about something that you’re not telling me. Don’t think you can fool me that easily.”

Harry reacts instantly, a sharp in-take of breath moves his chest that Sophia feels from her position on top of him.

He remains quiet so Sophia takes it upon herself to start the flow of the conversation for Harry to slowly open-up to her.

“Bunny, you remember what I always tell you whenever you’re feeling worried about me or about us, the thing I say that always comforts the both of us?”

Harry looks at her solemnly, his eyes on her always feel like he’s directly looking at her soul regarding her so wholeheartedly, “That we’re always in this together; your safety is my safety, your comfort is my comfort, so whatever worries me or you, we’ll always fix it together cause our love is one.”

Sophia smiles softly, closing the small gap between them in a slow kiss, Harry rubbing the tip of his nose affectionately with hers.

“Yes bunny, our love is one.” Sophia repeats kindly, “And because of that, I know that your worries about our current situation runs deeper than you’ve told me earlier in your angry exchange.”

Harry’s face simultaneously contorts to that of a frown of concern, “Sorry, Sunflower. Didn’t mean to be angry with you, just got lost in my worries. Not meant to be unkind to you, my love.”

Sophia pecks his pink pouty lips again, trying to stop the smile threatening to break on her face. She finds it so endearing that Harry instantly apologizes whenever she straight-out tells him he was being angry with her for something; not settling well with him that he was being unkind to her in any way.

“I know bunny, I know, don’t worry alright? And thank you for your apology, baby.” Sophia assures him, her hands finding the growing curls at the back of his head to twirls it on her fingers in a soothing manner.

She doesn’t want to prompt Harry any further, knowing that he won’t open up more if she doesn’t let him take his time. As his wife, she already knows that her husband would soon tell her what’s really wrong after she’s reminded him about the foundation of their relationship. Harry just likes to take his time to gather the right words, after all a musician like himself loves to take his time to explore and respect words when creating amazing, earth-altering music.

When Sophia thinks he’s ready to divulge his deep worries, Harry tightens his hold around her body and situates his lips directly on her ear, kissing it softly and inhaling her comforting scent before speaking.

“This tour just means so much to me. Have been working for ages trying to perfect everything cause the fans deserve nothing but the best for being so kind and patient when everything was rescheduled. At the same time, it’s our first tour together where you’d be there as my stylist the whole time, and that makes me want everything to be much more perfect because my wife’s well-being is now in the equation. I guess the stress of wanting everything to be just immaculately perfectly, is messing with my head. You know that I trust you so much, Sunflower, rationally I know your safety would be ensured a hundred percent since the guys know I’d literally strangle them myself if something happens to you when I’m away. I also know that you’re a responsible woman, who knows when and how to protect herself and you’re not one to do stupid shit or get into stupid situations like your husband.”

Harry’s joking words provide a pause in their rather serious conversation, the two sharing a giggle and a kiss at how true yet unfortunate his words are.

“So, I don’t know, it’s like..it just scares me that you changing the plan by not flying with us makes me think that something’s going to go wrong cause we’re derailing some part of the intricately perfect plan. And I know that sounds stupid and highly irrational, but I can’t help but get scared baby that something abou the concert will just not go as planned, like you not being able to attend the first show because of a late flight or something here in LA stops you from going, which is the biggest and worst fucking nightmare I can think about that can go wrong.”

Bingo, Sophia thinks to herself. She had the biggest hunch that this was the kind of fear her husband was having, her intuition telling her that it’s mostly not about her, but the external instances that can concern her that Harry has zero control over.

“Thank you for telling me, bunny.” Sophia coles on his ear before getting a good look of his flushed face. “So proud of you for being so open about your worries with me, always down to communicate with your wife.”

Harry gives her a small wry grin, “Only for you; only going to push myself to be more vulnerable and communicate for you, Sunflower.”

“Me too, because I love you and that’s what we do when you love someone.”

Sophia presses a kiss to his cheek, small hands cradling his face so she’s sure that the next words that are about to come out from her mouth will truly be registered in Harry’s soul and entire being.

“Harry Styles, you really are a fucking stupid fool if you think I’d allow anything to come my way and prevent me from watching your opening night. Heck, I would strangle with my bare hands if that happens, ‘treating people with kindness’ be damned!”

A startling laugh erupts from Harry, his laugh so infectious that even Sophia begins to laugh hard with him, forgetting for a moment the depth of the words she wants to say next.

“Did you seriously just call me a ‘fucking stupid fool?’” Harry asks in disbelief, “Not only did you just curse at me, but you called me stupid, and you decide that’s not enough so you also referred to me as a fool! You are one harsh spouse, Sunflower.”

Sophia just smiles at him all cutely in return, “Married me for a reason, yeah?”

That just makes Harry laugh even more, nodding his head too in agreeance with an undeniable smile on his face, “That I did, married you for the right fucking reason.”

His wife kisses that big smile off his face so hotly, bottom lip nipped and sucked to her satisfaction, leaving Harry breathless and defenseless to her cunning ministrations.

An instinctual groan leaves from Harry’s chest when Sophia leaves his lips with a popping sound, “No groaning, bunny. Can’t distract me with your dimples and sexiness.”

Harry bites his bottom lip, eyes hazy green, already distracted from his wife’s kisses. To be honest he thinks that her kisses are already enough comfort to his irrational concert fears, a few more of those (and maybe he can return some too, not on her lips though) and he would completely forget why he was worried in the first place.

But Harry knows his wife, knows that it’s important for her to resolve things with reason and not solely rely on the reprieve that sexual acts can provide. So he lets her be, squeezes the dimples on her back to encourage her to continue.

Sophia returns her hold on his face, thumb slowly stroking his cheek, “Aside from those adjectives, I also wanted to say in all seriousness, that you should stop fearing something that won’t ever happen. I’m not going to miss your concert, bunny. I know that there’s a lot of factors that are out of our control, but for something that extreme to happen, a lot more than those external factors are going to be needed to be able to stop me from coming. Bunny, again, I’m not going to miss your concert, promise.”

And that was that. Harry’s fears are thrown out the window, the comfort of his wife’s words consistently work like the most powerful magic.

***

The two days away from Harry were certainly easier than what Sophia perceived it would be after dropping him in the private lounge at the airport for his private plane ride to Vegas.

Obviously, Harry didn’t allow her to just ‘drop’ him there, he certainly made that clear by guiding them straight to the couches at the private lounge, nodding his head at the greetings from his team and making her sit down on the seat and then for him to plop his bum on her lap. Totally preventing her from leaving, really.

Sophia spent the rest of the time with Harry on her lap waiting until his boarding time. She converses with his team, Jeff even reminding her about the nail salon trip that he booked for Glenne and her. Sophia tries her best to acknowledge and reply to the conversation from Harry’s team, but the man himself is really testing her abilities by doing everything to make sure that all of her attention is all on him.

His hands finding their way to massage her hair, not one to deny amazing head scratches like her husband.

His lips landing random kisses on her face, his affection something she just can’t deny (and return) from her husband.

His nose rubbing around her temple, neck, and jaw, their scents always comforting one another so she gets distracted and returns the sentiments breathing-in his scrumptious scent that she would surely miss.

And then there’s his words, whispering softly to her ear about sweet promises (or sexual, the man likes to be inclusive with his promises), and how much he’s going to miss her and for her to expect his constant text messages throughout the next 48 hours or so.

Sophia really just let him be, indulging him on his antics to get her attention just to appease his mind and soul.

By the time boarding was called, that’s when her husband decided it’s a good idea to start the waterworks. Not only did his hold on her tighten, but Harry’s tears also soaked the shoulder of her top. He’s really not one for farewell, especially when Sophia’s the one he’s forced to part with.

Usually, when one of them is crying, the other is mostly trying to keep their calm to not further escalate the situation. At that moment, Sophia tried her hardest not to shed any tears as she coos comforting words of love in Harry’s ear, constantly kissing the side of his face while telling him how much she adores him and he should be on his best behavior in Vegas even without her.

Harry only cries harder, surprising Sophia at the sudden sob that erupts from him. Her level of concern is slowly rising with this very extreme reaction coming from her husband, not really his usual response when they’re going to leave each other for only two days.

Before she can voice her concerns, Jeff interrupts their moment, saying his apologies for doing so but informs them that they really had to go board and everyone is just really waiting for him.

That seems to catch Harry’s attention, placing one last deep kiss on Sophia’s lips and another ‘I love you, I’ll miss you.’ was rushed out from him. Their last exchange happened so quickly that the next thing Sophia knows, Harry and Jeff have boarded the private plane and her husband leaves a quick message to her phone before they take-off.

🐰 Husband 🐰: Don’t worry about my sobbing from earlier, Sunflower. Your scent just made me really emotional, or I’m about to get my period or something, I really don’t know. But I’m alright, my love, don’t worry. I’ll message again when we land. I love you 💖

So that settled Sophia’s emotions, even making her laugh at his joke about getting his period, like who says that? Apparently a man-baby like Harry Styles.

After that airport situation, everything else was sailing smoothly.

Harry messaged her upon his arrival at the MSG hotel in Vegas, sending a picture of the view from his penthouse room. Sophia returns the sentiment by sending a view from one of their favorite cafes in LA, her late lunch of tuna pie with a side of baked potatoes and a mango smoothie visible on the picture surely made Harry wish he was there eating with her.

The same interaction between the two continued in their two days apart, both of them making sure not to message all-throughout the day as it defeats the purpose of Sophia staying in LA for a bit more to finish much needed planning and scheduling with her team. At the same time, his wife also understood not to bombard his phone with messages for it would hinder Harry from doing the final touches for his first night on tour.

Though as promised by her husband, Harry sends videos and pictures of the moments that Sophia was very sour about missing.

Harry sends a 360 degree picture of the entire arena after the stage was set up for his liking. Even proceeded to do a stage and backstage tour video with him as the presenter. Mitch’s protests of being held captive as his videographer were present at the audio, as well as Jeff’s and Anthony’s cheeky comments here and there about Harry’s very ‘obedient behavior’ while she’s away and she would surely be proud of her boy because he wasn’t acting-up like a baby for missing her. All of that plus the occasional tidbits that Harry shares about the venue that he knew she would like, made Sophia feeling pretty happy.

For Harry’s final full run-through of his concert, Sophia was blessed with a picture of her husband in nothing but a pair of fucking banana-printed boxers standing proudly at the center of the stage with his arms wide open. The ever-nudist that he is, sent Sophia various videos of his rehearsal, singing his heart out without a care in the world of his lack of clothing. The cheeky little thing even sent a video of him twerking in front of an undeniably uncomfortable Mitch, Sarah only laughing wildly at her boyfriend’s unfortunate situation while playing the drums. The entire thing made Sophia laugh at random moments of the day upon remembering the things Harry sent.

Upon her husband’s supposed plan for them, Harry did find a farmer’s market during his free time in Vegas. Sophia was bombarded with pictures of his visit there, seemingly stopping at every stall based on the amount of selfies he took (with his iconic peace sign) while holding or showcasing the most random thing. It’s either a video of him taste-testing various kinds of cheese, local homemade chocolate that he knew she would have loved, attaching random colorful clips on his curls, or a picture of his hand holding a matching, hot pink thong and boxers with the words, ‘Baby, wanna get hitched in Vegas?’ glitter-embossed in the crotch area. Obviously, Sophia was appalled by this scandalous purchase but Harry only replied to her messages of concern with the following words: ‘I think a proposal only asks for either a yes or a no as an answer, don’t you think so, Sunflower?’ Well she sure is thankful that they’re married already, really.

When the new merch for tour went live, Sophia was in the middle of a meeting with Alessandro Michelle and Miley Cyrus for the latter’s custom Gucci outfits for her upcoming music festival performances. The two smile knowingly upon seeing the creeping school-girl smile on Sophia’s face (the one they’ve associated with the two disgustingly in-love spouses whenever they’re with them) as she looks at the caller id of her ringing phone placed on top of the table.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Miley laughs, motioning to her phone, “Answer the call before Harry combusts out of his undying love for you or something.”

“Yeah, poor boy pining all the way from Vegas.” Alessandro jests further.

Sophia flips them off laughingly, not even bothering to excuse herself from the room and answers the non-stop ringing phone. The first thing she saw upon answering the FaceTime call is Harry’s smiling face, the mischievousness glinted in his green eyes should have alerted Sophia that her husband was probably up to no good.

The next thing she sees is a full body mirror shot of a nude Harry, literally down to nothing but his birthday suit! Sophia wasn’t expecting such an atrocity on a Friday afternoon so the obvious reaction (which she should not be blamed for) is to actually scream her lungs-off.

Both Alessandro and Miley look at her in alarm, while Sophia screeches at her phone.

“HARRY! WHAT THE FUCK, BUNNY?! I’M IN A MEETING!”

Harry curses and stumbles to get under the covers of his hotel bed as if his wife and the people she’s in a meeting with can actually see his naked glory all the way from Vegas.

“What did he do?” Miley asked amusedly, sitting down beside Sophia to look while Alessandro hovers over the two.

Sophia laughs, seeing the morbid look Harry is giving upon seeing the other two faces, now safely covered with the hotel sheets up to his chin. She puts the call on speaker cause might as well, everyone’s already invested in what just occurred.

“Bunny,” Sophia giggles, “Mind telling my guests what you did to cause my earlier shock?”

Harry groans, face-palming himself, “Shit, are you really going to make me do this? Sunflower, this is going to be embarrassing for me.”

“Well you should have thought about that before basking me with all your nakedness on a sunny, Friday afternoon.”

Miley and Alessandro bursted out in rambunctious laughter, Sophia smirks triumphantly as Harry’s groan got louder and began to flip his friends off.

“No FaceTime sex during work hours, Harry!” Miley jokes.

“Wasn’t going to have phone sex, jesus!” Harry defends himself, flipping Alessandro off again when the latter does a crude gesture with his hands, as if jerking-off.

“Bunny, just tell us what’s going on here before we get into more nasty assumptions.”

Harry chuckles, pointing his finger at them, “Yeah, that’s correct, you guys are nasty! Seems to have your heads under the gutter or something.”

“You’re the one who called your wife, apparently butt-ass naked, during a meeting” Miley points out, “So I don’t really know if we’re to blame here, cause you seem to be the one to have other, clearly, sexual intentions.”

“Again,” Harry laughs, “I wasn’t going to have mediocre sex with my wife during works hours, alright? She deserves better than that, like all night loving or something.”

Miley and Alessandro whooped and whistled at that, Sophia’s cheeks pinking because of the implication of his words.

“Okaaayyy… let’s get out to the topic of sex, hm? So what’s the purpose of your call again, baby?” Sophia prompts as Harry gives her a knowing look, knows that his wife is very private about their sex life, much more than he is really.

“My new Love on Tour merch just went live, so I was just going to stop-by and give you an exclusive try-on haul just for you, my lovely wife. But looks like I called during the wrong time?”

“That you did.” Sophia agrees, smiling fondly now that she knew the intention of his call.

“Awww,” Miley coos, “That’s so sweet! Like something out of every ladies’ dreams!”

“I hope my customized Gucci suits for you have also received the same honor of an ‘exclusive try-on haul’” Alessandro smirks jokingly.

Harry snorts, “She’s my stylist, Lallo. Obviously, try-on hauls of your suits are normal occasions in our relationship. You should be honored with the amount of loving I get after she sees me in them, if you know what I mean.” Harry wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

That was the point Sophia takes in the reins, and kindly asks her husband to call again later when her meeting was over. Sadly, Harry had a dinner meeting during her free time so instead of an ‘exclusive try-on haul’ video call, Sophia’s phone was flooded with pictures of Harry adorned in his new merch line.

Sophia fonds over the pictures, not immune to her husband’s good looks especially in his most natural and disheveled look with his lovely curly locks poking out of his ‘Harry is my friend’ hat. That, is definitely Sophia’s favorite from all the things he just released, the tote bag being the second.

What really warmed her heart is the last item Harry sent her.

A picture of his pouting face, wearing the similar hat she adores. What catches her eyes and makes her stop, is the words embroidered on it: ‘Harry is my hubby bunny’

So yeah, she thinks their time apart could have been worse. Now she’s just ready to adore and support her husband at this new milestone he’s about to approach.

***

Sophia arrives in the MGM Grand Garden Arena in Vegas at exactly one hour before showtime.

Wearing her custom black Gucci lace corset top, tight leather trousers and shiny black pointy pumps, Sophia gets escorted out of her ride and into the backstage entrance with the security team Harry hired for her. And as she walks in the twists and turns of the backstage, she hears and feels the excited fans just on the other side of where she is.

She knows her husband is in near proximity when she hears his laugh above everyone else's. Sophia assumes they’re all in the common area, shaking her head already knowing that Harry’s still probably in just his boxers at only an hour before the first night of his tour.

And her assumptions were verified as she reached the common area. Harry’s entire band are scattered around the couches already in their custom Gucci outfits for the show unlike her husband, who’s currently sitting on the middle of the floor in just his boxers. Not just any boxers though, it’s the exact hot pink one that he bought in the farmers market.

“SUNFLOWER! YOU MADE IT!”

Harry stands up, stretching his arms wide-open for a hug. His smile is so radiantly big that Sophia decides to say her comment about his current attire later and lets herself melt in his hug. Both of them exhale a sigh of relief, finding instant comfort in being wrapped in each other’s arms once again.

“I missed you, baby.” Harry whispers, giving a loving kiss on her temple.

Sophia puckers her lips for a kiss, Harry bends down a bit to do so, and the two instantly smile at the first contact.

“I missed you too, my bunny.” Sophia says after separating their lips, arms still wrapped around each other in the middle of the room. “But I can’t believe what you’re wearing right now. The audacity, H. In front of your bandmates, really?”

Harry feigns a gasp of shock, letting go of their hug and gestures to his crotch.

“This? Is a piece of art, Sunflower. If someone had proposed to me while wearing this, I would have said yes without any hesitation.”

Sophia, along with everyone else present in the room, laugh at his earnest ridiculousness.

“He says it’s he’s new lucky pants for every show.” Mitch informs Sophia, standing up to greet her. Everyone follows suit to greet her now that she has reacquainted with Harry already.

“Now you can’t be serious?” Sophia says, incredulously eyeing her husband who’s now back to sitting on the floor.

Sophia’s in tight leather trousers, so she ignores the pout Harry gives her when he pats the space on the floor in between his parted legs for her to sit on. Instead, she sits down beside Sarah and Mitch on the couch.

“Well I don’t think you’d wear the matching thong I got you so I might as well make use of that while this one is in the laundry.”

Sophia laughs with the others, but she’s not a hundred percent doubtful about his comment because her husband might be a jokester, but he’s also ridiculous and bold and does what he wants as long as it hurts no one.

She lets Harry lean his back on the couch where she’s seated while still sitting on the floor, hands finding hers to interlock with one another resting on his shoulder.

“Bunny, I have to get you dressed-up and ready in five minutes time, alright? Why didn’t you follow your bandmates’ responsible steps and also got ready earlier? I’m sure Jeff or Glenne could have helped you since she arrived earlier than me.”

Harry shakes his head, “Didn’t wanna. Wanted my wife to get me ready for opening night, Sunflower.”

The boys, Mitch, Niji, and Pauli all say resounding ‘boos’ at Harry’s apparent sappiness and sweet talking. While the girls, Sarah, Erin, and NyOh, giggle and coo. Sophia just brings her other hand not held by her husband to his curly locks and gives it a little scratch, acknowledging his words.

Sophia begins to catch-up with Harry’s friends, getting more tid-bits of the happening in Vegas that she has missed, Mitch not failing to mention the torment her husband had given him upon her absence and constant attention. To her surprise, it was Harry who signals her that his five minutes is up by giving the back of her hand a soft kiss.

She says her wishes for a smashing show for the others as Harry slowly leads her to his dressing room. The moment the door is closed, Harry quickly leads her to the couch in his dressing room and arranges them so that she’s comfortably straddling his lap as he tightly wraps his arms around her before they start kissing hotly.

Kissing, suckling, bitting, is the passionate routine that their lips followed for the next following minutes, the two spouses seemingly forgetting about the ticking-time until the concert. Thankfully, Sophia wakes-up from her rose-tinted haze when Harry squeezes both cheeks of her arse.

Sophia reaches behind her and wraps her hands on his wrists, “Off-limits until after showtime.”

Her teasing earns a frustrated groan from Harry, whining when Sophia leaves one last deep kiss to his red-bitten lips and goes straight to the vanity to fix her appearance. She looks back at her husband, raising an eyebrow in question at his relaxed state.

“Better get your butt off from that couch cause I don’t think Vegas will sing itself.”

“Should have told me that before you snogged my soul out of my body.”

Sophia laughs at Harry who’s now walking to his ensuite bathroom to freshen-up.

“Excuse you, you’re the one who man-handled me on your lap in the first place. I had good intentions when we went here, you’re the one who has an ulterior motive to snog wildy.”

“I fucking missed my wife, can you blame me?”

“Nope, cause I did too, miss my husband that is. But, I’d like to set some boundaries, bunny.”

Sophia props herself up on the vanity table, Harry making his way to stand between her parted legs. He bends down to rub his nose against hers in pure, instinctual affection.

“So far that boundaries,” Sophia begins, “Because I’m your stylist now for tour, I think it’s best that when it comes to work time, you shouldn’t distract me with your words and affection as your wife. I mean, everything’s mostly going to be the same, I just want more professionalism when I’m going to get you glammed and ready for your show.”

“And professionalism entails…” Harry trails-off in a question.

“Like just, more putting on clothes than unbotting them. More straightening outfits you're wearing than feeling each other up.”

Harry laughs heartily at that, “Sunflower, I’m afraid that you’re the only one here who actually feels me up. You’re the stylist who dresses me, not the other way around.”

“Excuse you!” Sophia giggles at the accusation, “You’re the one who had their hands on my arse earlier.”

“That’s only a slip from my immaculate conduct because I was missing you. Otherwise, I have outstanding marks.”

Sophia pushes Harry’s smirking face to the side jokingly, “I’d only believe that once you show me. More moving, less talking, bunny.”

Before Harry follows her instructions like the dutiful husband that he is, he cradles Sophia’s face on his hands tenderly.

“Joking aside,” he says, “I agree with these boundaries for work. I just want everything to be perfect this tour, might that be for you, me, the team, or the fans. Whatever would help that happen, I’m all in for.”

“Okay, that’s good to hear.” Sophia smiles, turning her face to kiss his thumb.

“Just promise me no full deprivation of kisses and cuddles.”

Sophia smirks at his pleading face, as if she can deny him that.

“I promise, my bunny. You can still get some of my kissies and huggies.”

“I better.”

***

In no time, Sophia has got Harry dressed in his pink trousers and sparkling pink-fringe vest. She remembers Harry’s earnest insitince for this specific look for his opening night, not opting for nothing less than extravagant and flashy.

“Haven’t performed in a long time,” Harry says as Sophia and her assistant fix any tangled fringe on his vest, “I think this outfit would do good for my depleting narcissist fuel.”

Sophia snorts, pinching his arm earning a squawk from her husband, “You already have enough of that, mister popstar-rockstar hybrid.”

“Sunflower, narcissists 101 would tell you that it’s never going to be enough.”

“Whatever, H.” Sophia dismisses with a good natured eye-roll, “Too bad this is the only one of this kind for tour.”

“Speaking about that, do you think we can change some of the looks to more of these kinds?”

That sets-off another round of conversation between the two, Sophia shutting his idea quickly because it’s just irrational and undoable when they already have everything set outfit-wise. Harry couldn't defend his argument any further as Jeff notifies them that he has to get his mics and ear-ins in just a few minutes' time.

Hand-in-hand, the spouses make their way quietly around the backstage. Upon reaching their destination, Sophia watches her husband get his mic pack and ear-ins fitted, smiling at the camera that Anthony has pointed at them. She won’t be surprised by how many pictures of her this tour alone will garner until the end.

After Harry’s gotten prepared, he comes back to sling an arm around Sophia’s shoulders to pull her close to his side. Sophia wraps her arms around his body in return, squishing her face on the side of his bare chest giving it a small kiss.

“I love you,” she mouths to him, knowing he can’t hear her because of his in-ears and the screaming of the fans.

Harry smiles, dimples popping, “I love you too, Sunflower. Very happy that you’re here.” he says before giving her a sweet kiss on her nose, cheeks, lips, and forehead.

Sophia can’t agree with her husband any better; she’s fucking happy being right here beside him too.

***

Together with Glenne, Jeff, and their security, Sophia made their way to the barricaded area at the opening of the backstage where they will be standing at all-night for Harry’s concert. At first, Harry didn’t like the idea of her not staying at the private box at the top of the arena but Sophia had relented everytime he worried about her comfortability saying that she’d rather be standing all-night long to watch Harry in a much nearer area rather than being on the private box which is so far away from him that he looks just like a tiny spec from up there.

The audience was wild, Harry hadn't even arrived at the stage yet and Sophia already saw dozens of camera flashing, fan signs raised up in the air, and dozens upon dozens of varied voices singing Harry’s songs as if their voices won’t be horsed later while singing it back to the man himself. Sophia can’t help but feel a sense of gratitude and appreciation for the genuine undying support Harry’s fans have. It truly means the world to her that they are able to see the talent and kindness in him which is all she truly wants as it makes Harry so happy, and nothing can compare to seeing the love of your life shine so bright with happiness.

It’s a testament to the fans’ modesty and self-restraint that they didn’t climb over the barriers when Harry finally came out of the stage for Golden. If Sophia was in the same boat and didn’t happen to be married to the rockstar, surely she would have hauled herself upwards to party with Harry on-stage, security and her dignity be damned.

But thankfully that wasn’t the case, and nothing of that kind of chaos ensued as Harry pranced around the stage giddily, singing his heart out together with his fans as if they hadn't sung this song a million times already before tonight. Harry for one, usually plays the album in their home, singing along to it with Sophia whilst they're in the kitchen cooking, working-out at their home gym, or when they just want some white noise while they cuddle on the couch and relax. Sophia’s sure the fans have done the same, have probably obsessed over the songs more than them if the way they’re shouting the lyrics back at Harry more enthusiastically than the singer himself can be any indication.

In Sophia’s unbiased opinion, nobody should be left just standing, or god forbid sitting down in any of Harry’s concerts. Everybody should be fucking dancing their assess-off without a care in the world! So Sophia does that, dances herself to every song her husband is singing like it’s the first time she’s hearing it all over again. Glenne and her even drag Jeff in their little dance party, twirling and swinging each other around with their shoulders shimmying constantly as if they’re wearing Harry’s sparkling red fringed vest too.

Harry’s spiel about the circular stage and how sometimes you either get his face or his ass, releases a howling laughter from Sophia and starts chanting ‘Ass, ass, baby give me your ass!’ getting Glenne and Jeff to chant along earning the attention of some fans, and obviously gets Harry’s too when they start screaming in glee at Sophia’s reaction. Harry turns towards his wife and friends, pointing specifically at Sophia while smirking her way.

“Only the best for my wife, so you get the ass,” he turns his backside to her, “ALL OF THE ASS, BABY!” and actually shimmies his arse side-to-side before slapping one cheek for emphasis.

Sophia starts screaming in exhilaration at her husband’s response, the fans eating-up the first interaction they’ve witnessed of the married couple whilst in Harry’s concert prompting Sophia to twerk her ass back in his direction resulting in a louder uproar from the entire arena.

When Harry moves position on the stage, much closer to Sophia and their friends now, he sees a fan holding out a crochet sunflower towards his direction.

“Oh my god, it’s a sunflower! Is that for me?”

The fan nods enthusiastically and Harry comes closer to her to accept it, even smiling for a picture when she raises her film camera towards his direction. When he comes back to her position beside Erin and NyOh, guitar strapped to his chest he holds the crochet sunflower under his nose like his smelling it’s sweet floral scent.

“That’s quite wonderful, you guys really know me well that I love sunflowers,” he says thoughtfully, earning laughter from his audience at his other implication, “and being a lover of sunflowers, I thought it was only fitting that I married one, yeah?”

He shows off his wedding band on his left hand to the audience, his fans screaming in recognition at the only remaining ring on said hand after years of full-ringed fingers.

“Anyway, I got myself my very own sunflower now, she’s actually here, Hiii my Sunflower!” Harry waves widely at a smiling-so-big-my-face-might-burst Sophia who waves back at him just as enthusiastically.

“I love her very much, as you guys would have probably known by now if you follow my social media and see that beautiful face of hers on every picture that I seem to post, can’t really blame me really with how beautiful she is, isn’t she gorgeous? The world deserves to see her beauty, really!”

Even if it’s so dark in the arena, and the lights are mostly on the stage pointed at her husband, Sophia still feels that everyone can see the raging blush on her cheeks. She can’t say that Harry doesn’t usually say sweet things like that in every opportunity he can get, but it’s the first time he’s done it in-front of thousands of people in a sold-out arena. It’s pretty much a new experience for Sophia, which by now she thinks she has to get used to starting now.

When the audience lessens their gleeful agreement to Harry’s opinion, he continues his bit, “So I’m very fond of giving flowers to my Sunflower whenever I can, again, if my rare social media posts can be any indication. Now I have a magical flower in my hand and I have yet to give her one today as a congratulation for not only it being her official first day at work as my tour stylist, but for being able to handle my weird narcissistic ass and love me unconditionally despite everything that comes to being married to me.”

Sophia definitely didn’t see that change of route with his bit, and felt herself close to tears at Harry’s raw words of honesty. Both Jeff and Glenne pulled her close to their sides in a tight embrace, anchoring her amidst the loud screams and coos of everyone else.

“I’ve always advocated for treating everyone with…”

“KINDNESS!” Sophia hears Jeff and Glenne scream in unison with the others, too speechless to follow along.

“Kindness, that’s correct!” Harry claps his hands in elation, “Definitely going to inform you lots’ teachers to give an A plus for good conduct! But anyway, I was going to ask if you guys can kindly pass this beautiful crochet sunflower to my Sunflower all the way to the back? My heart is forever going to be filled with love if we get to show her some kindness tonight.”

Sophia doesn’t understand how that’s possible, how her husband can make that possible. Because the next thing she knows, everyone seems to quiet down as Harry passes the sunflower back to the audience, and everyone’s rapt attention is placed on the precious cargo moving from one fan’s gentle hands to the other, nearer, and nearer her direction.

The winning scream that everyone lets out once the crochet sunflower is in Sophia’s grasp is deafening. She’s typically not a narcissist, but she would like to share her input on the increase in volume of those screams compared to the last hour of Harry singing.

Sophia’s sure the smile she gives Harry no matter the literal distance between them right now, is already enough to show her gratitude and adoration towards him and his grand display of affection. But as a bonus (cause as he said, it’s never enough), Sophia copies his earlier actions of pretending to waft the scent of the flower, earning an audible giggle from Harry resounding across the arena as she mouths an ‘I love you.’ just like she did earlier before sharing her husband to the rest of the world.

The show continues after that; Sophia swaying along the heartfelt melody of Cherry, arms slinged with Jeff and Glenne as they move side-to-side as Harry sings about coming home in Canyon Moon, and of course, losing her shit while dancing like an animal gone wild to Kiwi was a definite requirement if one wants to have the full Harry Styles’ concert experience.

Like a blink of an eye, Harry was bowing and blowing kisses to the audience, making his rounds to give his thanks to everyone who had come and supported his opening night. Sophia clapped her hands and cheered wildly throughout the remaining moments of the concert, excitement and adoration coursing through her veins ready to congratulate and dot over her husband.

Just as expected, Sophia thinks Harry does phenomenal for his opening night of his sophomore tour.

***

Later on the night, when Harry had completed all the duties that comes with being the star of a concert, had said his gratitude towards his team, bandmates, friends, and whoever he passed by while leaving that supported him that night, Harry was free to be completely immersed in his favorite role in the world: being a husband.

All the appreciation he had given to everyone that made tonight possible, did not compare to the recognition he had given his wife. Between the time they’re finally alone in their penthouse room in the hotel, and up to the point where their naked bodies are cuddled together on the bed with matching sated exhales and happy knowing smiles, Harry’s sure being Sophia’s husband definitely tops any concert he will do for the rest of his life.

It’s not even a surprise to him how he easily gravitated towards his phone to look at the pictures taken tonight by Anthony, who has kindly sent it to him immediately upon his request. Fingers swiping pass his pictures and finding the perfect one of his wife, instantly enamored by one particular photo.

Harry opens his Instagram account, ignoring the thousands upon thousands of notifications he got from tonight’s concert media content he presumes, and blindly finds the picture of his wife he had chosen and lets his fingers type-away whatever sappy thing his mind has to say this time like every other time he posts about her.

At two am in the morning, Harry Styles posts the first ever picture in relation to his tour. A picture of his wife clutching the crochet sunflower, Harry on stage in the background in his red glimmering vest is almost not even the focus of the picture as Sophia is smiling so big her eyes are squinted at the ends like she just can’t contain her joy taking all of the picture’s attention.

Below it, he had captioned: My Love on Tour, literally 🌻 💘

Bunny and the Pearl Choker

Nothing is going to stand against Harry’s way. The 20th of October would be perfect, must be perfect.

That’s Harry's current state of mind just as the new month rolled-in, the chilly autumn air already starting its full-pledged invasion of his sweet little flat.

‘Blankets, would she like blankets?’ he thinks, as he closes the stubborn window in his living area and fetches the new cream colored fluffy blanket from the basket filled with an assortment of other blankets in different sizes, colors, and textures, keen to not freeze his bones off while trying to be the best boyfriend there is on this planet.

‘No, don’t think so.’ Harry converses with his thoughts, taking a seat on his couch, ‘I always get new blankets for her every time we go out, that’s not special enough. Have to think better than that, Harry. Yup, that’s the right path to follow right now.’

See, Harry has the perfect idea on how he’s going to make a superb use of his free Friday afternoon when one of his uni professors called in sick late last night.

Harry’s plan is to spend the rest of his afternoon on his soft baby blue couch (his beautiful girlfriend always had the same shade painted on her nails prompting him to buy the couch in that color), freshly made latte with a few pumps of the pumpkin spice syrup (that his lovely girlfriend had bought him) resting on the coffee table for his convenience, the new cream colored fluffy blanket already wrapped around his bottom half (always a necessity to get new blankets because he’s cuddly girlfriend gets easily cold), and with his laptop perched on his lap ready to research away (and yes, the laptop also has a connection with his thoughtful girlfriend who had given him stickers of different kinds of bunnies doing different things to decorate it.)

Said beautiful, lovely, cuddly, and thoughtful girlfriend is going to celebrate her 21st birthday on the 20th of October; Harry’s perfect plan is to organize a perfect birthday for her with no other things needed to be said or thought over. He’ll take it upon himself to do it, as an obligation of a wonderful boyfriend who only wants the best for his girl on her special day.

Dedicating some time to planning is only the responsible way to go about planning anything that you want to garner immaculate results for, especially when Harry has no idea on what his girlfriend wants for her birthday.

Don’t get him wrong, he knows Sophia inside and out like the back of his hand, though he also knows how timid she is about voicing her wants especially when it's something material like a birthday present or something to do with celebrating her which she thinks are unnecessary actions cause she’s kind and modest like that.

Harry has done his part and obviously asked her in person, they value communication in their relationship so it was only wise for him to come forth and ask verbally of what she wants to do and have for her 21st before he starts scheming behind her back and it ending up to be a failure because it wasn’t what the birthday girl had wanted.

So just last week, while they were both cuddled together in the very same couch Harry is sitting on right now, he asked Sophia who was lying comfortably on top of him, face squished on his chest wrapping a chocolate brown blanket tighter around their bodies if she had any plans for her birthday.

The girl had stopped breathing in his comforting scent and nuzzling her face to his jumper, and looked at him, eyes lighting-up with a bit of surprise like she didn’t expect the question at all.

Instead of the usual wish of a 21st rager for a birthday, Sophia scrunches her nose adorably, thinking for a moment with her cute little bottom lip jutting out a bit just like every time they study together causing a distracted Harry every now and then.

“Hmmm.. I don’t know bunny. Maybe we can just bake something nice and have a movie marathon here? I’d really like it if we just watched Civil War again, haven’t seen Chris Evans in that film for awhile.”

And of course, her answer would be a sweet little movie night with a little baking at the side, a typical occurrence in their relationship as both utterly love a good, cozy chilled-in night. But that’s the thing, Harry thought, it was such a regular thing that they do all the time and her birthday should be something more special than that. Plus, he doesn’t want to share her attention with Chris bloody Evans on her birthday! That won’t do, it happens all the time already and Harry would especially want to be the one that provides a smashing time for her on her special day, not some super human in blue spandex with killer biceps (that, Harry can probably agree Chris Evans has it in the bag).

So Harry voiced out his thoughts, even adding in the fact that she also should think about what she wants as a gift and as expected, the pout on her pretty pink lips even got bigger, wide blue eyes looking owlishly at him.

“Don’t want anything out of the ordinary. Bunny, you’re already a good time to spend my birthday with, and an amazing gift too for being in my life.”

Now that was sweet, and Harry doesn’t have the heart to say otherwise when she comes nuzzling back to his chest almost purring in content like a cat.

But Harry won’t also let it slide that easily, knows deep down that no matter what Sophia says, his Sunflower would appreciate whatever effort he will bring to the table might it be baking and a movie marathon, or an all-planned birthday celebration outside the confines of their home.

That’s why here he is, immersing himself in full-concentration mode as he turns the power of his laptop on, sipping cautiously at the sweet and aromatic hot beverage on his favorite sunflower embossed mug.

Harry opens a new tab on Google, trying to rack his brain for any clue or inkling to what his girlfriend might want after consulting their friends if something might have slipped in their conversations with her.

Glenne, her best friend who she’s with most of the time that her and Harry are not attached to the hip, had mentioned nothing saying that conversations about Sophia’s 21st never even came-up in any of their conversations. That alone, has Harry slightly panicked already as he knows that the chances that any of their other friends have in knowing what Sophia might want, was possibly in the lower spectrum.

His assumptions we’re indeed confirmed upon asking Sarah, Mitch, and Jeff, all three leaving him with the same empty-handed results. All of their friends assured him though that Sophia’s a really sweet and simple girl that whatever Harry plans for her she would surely appreciate more than an average person.

The thing is, Harry knows that’s absolutely true. His Sunflower is the sweetest, most gentle and kind soul he has ever met, it does kind of feel silly that he’s stressing himself out over here trying to plan such an intricate thing for her birthday when he knows Sophia’s being genuine with just wanting a simple night-in with just the two of them together.

Harry shakes his head, determination winning over the better part of him as his fingers start typing away for possible 21st birthday celebration recommendations. He started with looking at blog posts and websites that show a list of possible activities and gifts to do, but then proceeded to look at certain activities when the broad selection was just overwhelming him.

After about 45 minutes of looking here and there on the internet, Harry’s luck still seemed to not have gotten any better and allowed himself a five minute break to make another cup of latte. While doing so, he looks at his discarded phone checking for any missed messages, his worries and slight tiredness from his research abruptly washes away just upon seeing the gorgeous smiling face of his girlfriend on his lockscreen from their recent trip to the South of France last summer. His Sunflower really basks in the glory of the summer season and its endless sunshine grandeur.

Suddenly, something clicks in him. Summer. Sophia loves summer more than any season and has always loved significantly all their activities during those times of the year. His mind instantly reels him back to every single summer picnic they shared, specifically noting her speechless awed expression at their last picnic in the South of France where Harry took her to the most gorgeous open field with luscious flowers sprinkled around, the lavenders a definite favorite with Sophia not failing to mention that detail to every person who asked them about their trip when they came back to uni after their holiday.

Clapping in excitement, Harry dopily makes his way back to the couch, cursing loudly when he sips on his new cup of pumpkin spice latte forgetting that it was still scorching hot.

That doesn’t deter him, already knowing how to use it to his advantage when Sophia comes to his place for dinner later and he can act all wounded-puppy-like and get her to kiss him better. For now, he must think of the best way to get about preparing a summer picnic for his lovely girlfriend in the bloody autumn weather.

Harry feels his luck starting to look better, typing the single letter ‘p’ on his browser suggests him to a Pinterest link that apparently has been visited on his laptop. Curiously, he opens the link knowing within himself that he has never visited this website, and oh my god did he hit the bloody jackpot without even exerting any effort!

The link opens to a Pinterest board filled with picnic ideas and aesthetic, upon looking further Harry realizes that Sophia must have, actually definitely, used his laptop to log-in her Pinterest account and apparently create a dedicated board for anything picnic related. It’s never been an issue for them to use each other's devices and log-in their accounts to it, knowing that neither of them has anything to hide nor any reason to snoop around in the first place. This however, is the only time Harry might be inclined to do so, for pure and honest intentions though!

Knowing deep down inside that he’s about to do nothing wrong at all, Harry decides to continue and starts taking notes dutifully, already finalizing ideas in his mind on the tangible things he has to prepare and get, already deciding on the overall theme and route he wants this picnic to be.

The next 30 minutes passes-by and Harry can confidently say that he has everything sorted plan-wise on this sweet and humble picnic for his girl, already sorted his schedule too on when to accomplish specific tasks.

He checks the time on his wall clock, realizing that he only has about an hour left before Sophia’s last class of the day ends, and he plans to pick her up and treat her to dinner in one of their favorite cafes just around town knowing that she’s most probably craving their strawberry smoothie cause he definitely is salivating thinking about the banana one.

With that in mind, Harry proceeds to look at the other boards on Sophia’s Pinterest, thinking might as well because it seems like his girlfriend had found a quiet solace on this app to project her wants and plans.

Again, Harry is astounded how the answers to his burning question of what to get her as a gift easily comes to his possession with just a simple scroll and click.

A pearl necklace, specifically a mini Vivienne Westwood Bas Relief Choker, is apparently the only material thing that his Sunflower wants and is too shy to tell him.

Well, looks like Harry has got some pearls to buy and woo his girlfriend with.

***

Maybe Harry has overestimated these divine blessings that have easily come to his hand, because here he is, waiting for the third time for this bloody pearl choker to get back in-stock on the website.

Apparently, everyone wanted to get the pearl chokers just at the same time that Harry needed it, as if he wasn’t the only one in London planning to surprise their girlfriend for their big 21. Relentlessly, Harry refreshes the website again and again while waiting for his French literature professor to enter the room, not noticing his two best mates sliding in on either seats beside him.

Jeff whistles, catching Harry’s attention; he’s looking at the screen of Harry’s laptop as if he knew the hardship of just wanting to get the bloody gift for your girlfriend but you can’t cause the universe was just feeling to torment him and make him wait.

“I hate to break it to you, H,” Jeff says, curving an arm around his shoulder, “There’s no bloody chance that you can get Soph that choker unless you call in to reserve it from your local store and then pick it up at the date they advise you with.”

Harry frowns, “How do I know that what you’re saying is credible?”

Jeff feigns a gasp, “Since when did you start questioning the legitimacy of my suggestions?”

Harry just raises an eyebrow in return, “Haven’t yet, but there’s always a first for everything.”

Mitch begins to laugh at Jeff’s shocked and affronted expression upon realizing that Harry wasn’t joking around in the first place with his question.

“Mate, this is fucking serious business here,” Mitch says to Jeff, raising his hand towards Harry’s direction, “We’re talking about a birthday gift for H’s little precious Sunflower, so we must understand the hostility here.”

Harry narrows his eyes at Mitch this time, “I don’t know if you just mocked my girlfriend or what, but I’m not having any of it, she really is special and precious to me more than you two could ever be.”

“Ouch!” the two boys say in unison before laughing loudly at Harry’s unrelenting cross expression.

“I would really appreciate it if the two of you stop laughing at my expense and actually offer some sensible help.”

The two boys clear their throat to settle their laughing fit before turning to Harry in a more serious manner, sensing that their boy is genuinely stressing about this.

“Haz,” Jeff says, “Trust me, my advice from earlier was not a joke. I had the same dilemma for Glenne’s Christmas gift last year from a different designer shop, and that was the exact same advice one of her friends had given me who frequents shopping on-demand designer items.”

Harry considers what Jeff said, thumb and index finger pinching on his bottom lip while turning his gaze to Mitch as if waiting for his input.

Mitch chuckles and raises his hands in defense, “Don’t come looking at me like I have the same wise words cause I haven’t gotten Sarah any of those kinds of gifts, you rich motherfuckers.”

That bursts out an unexpected laugh from Jeff and Harry who know that they are a bit more well-off than their other friends, but have never boasted it in-front of them or something. It’s just surprisingly funny that Mitch brought it up, who is most probably the less caring person about that aspect in their life; he’s a really good lad.

“But, I do know some other wise words which is that you won’t really lose anything if you tried Jeff’s advice here, and again, Soph would love whatever you give or don’t give her.”

Harry thinks that’s sound words, and decides to follow-through later that evening while lounging comfortably on Sophia’s pink satin sheets of her bed, the latter enjoying a much well-deserved relaxing evening shower on her ensuite.

Harry made sure that Sophia couldn't hear him making the call as the noise of the shower jets and the blow dryer later on would definitely help mask his voice from her earshot.

He feels heaven slowly opening up it’s gates again for him as the lady over the phone from Vivienne Westwood confirming that the pearl choker is in-stock and they can hold in on reserve for him for a maximum of four days and he needs to pick it up on their London branch between those days or else it will be given to another customer.

Harry easily agrees and a gleeful smile must have been present on his face because it’s the first thing his girlfriend notices upon appearing back in her bedroom, one of his old band tees adorning her upper body with pastel yellow lace panties the only thing covering her modesty.

“What’s that smile for, bunny? Something you wanna share to the room?” she asks, picking up her hairbrush from her princess-style vanity.

Harry giggles, making grabby hands for Sophia, carefully getting the hairbrush from her hand so he can do it himself. He loves brushing her long blonde princess looking hair, Sophia happily letting him as she positions herself comfortably in-between his parted legs.

“Can I not be happy to be in your company? I missed you so much, my Sunflower. Haven’t gotten the chance to have you all to myself.” Harry nuzzles his nose to her ear, making the girl giggle.

“Tickles, bunny!” Sophia says, trying to get away. Harry lets her go easily, but without a deep kiss on her ear as he continues to gently brush her long strands.

“But seriously though, I know you’re not telling me something so speak-up before I deny you my kissies tonight.”

Harry laughs, “Whoah, what’s gotten you so harsh tonight, lovie? Don’t know if I should take my chances, really.”

“Better not,” Sophia replies, reaching behind her to pinch his love handles as a joking warning.

“Heyyy..” Harry whines, “No need to get the claws out. I was just talking to the shop that I’m getting mom’s gift for the opening of the new branch of her florist shop here in London.”

“Ohhh!” Sophia claps her hands excitedly, such a cutie little bean, Harry thinks. “What did you get her?”

“Not gonna tell.”

Now it was Sophia’s turn to whine, “Heyyy no fair, have to tell me.”

“Says who?” Harry giggles, slowly fixing her hair in a soft plait for bed, “Don’t think there was a rulebook for this kind of thing in relationships.”

“Don’t need any of that crap,” without looking at her face, Harry knows Sophia’s pouting while saying that, “You’re going to tell me cause you love me so much.”

Harry laughs, rearranging the two of them after finishing her plait with Sophia now straddling his lap.

“Bunny, come on, tell me, please?”

Harry should have thought better when he decided to have her on his lap like this. Because with her pouting pink lips, perfectly cut wispy bangs falling just above her brow bone, and with her rounded crystal clear blue eyes looking up at him from under her long lashes, it’s a perfectly mixed concoction for Harry to bare his whole heart and soul to her waiting hands.

But that won’t do, Harry’s willpower must be stronger because his Sunflower deserves this birthday surprise and not some half-assed confession because he can’t resist her beautiful charm (she still is very much gorgeous, don’t get him wrong.)

So instead, Harry goes the joking route, “I do love you a whole lot, and I have no problem sharing matters with you, Sunflower. But, I must say that I think you’ve been a little cheeky bugger recently and talking to my mom behind my back does not sit lightly with me.”

Sophia’s eyes widen further, now more shocked than anything before she smirks, “Where did you ever get that information from, baby?”

Harry snorts, “Certainly not from you after I’ve gotten a text from my dear mother reprimanding me like a child because I apparently got so hungover during an exam day, and somebody saw it fitting to hand my arse to my mother to beat on!”

Sophia laughs really loudly, hitting Harry’s chest in reaction, “BUNNY! You can’t say the word arse and then refer it to Anne! You’re bloody crazy!”

Harry laughs along, switching their positions now again with Sophia under his body lying down now on her pink sheets, skin somehow glistening as the moonlight’s glow seeps through her window.

“Lovie, you’re the crazy one for telling me off to her in the first place. I feel kind of betrayed, really.”

“Awww..” Sophia coos at her boyfriend’s pouting face, “I didn’t mean anything bad about it, bunny it honestly just slipped out during our conversation and I didn’t even think she cared that much. It was mostly a funny story for me to share.”

“Why? Cause I almost puked at my professor’s desk after I passed my bullshit answers to his exam?”

“Yup, and the fact that Mitch said you also almost tripped while doing so.”

“You’re evil.” and Harry begins a tickle fight like no other.

***

If Harry thought his obstacles for this birthday present were over, then he’s probably shitting himself right now with how wrong and unprepared he was for this coming week.

It’s the week before Sophia’s actual birthday, Harry having contacted and ordered all the flowers, picnic set up and overall needed materials for that, and even the food. Everything had gone smoothly with that entire process, and after his almost slip-up of telling the birthday girl her birthday present, he thinks it’s all sunshines and rainbows from here on out.

Though that idea quickly flushes down the drain when the birthday girl herself was the first obstacle Harry has to overcome to get this pearl choker.

Harry was ready to leave her place, after having had another sleepover the previous night. Already dressed comfortably for the chilly weather, he was calling for Sophia to say his goodbyes in the guise of needing to leave for errands.

Instead of being greeted by Sophia in her usual loungewear of a lace boyshorts panties and a silk camisole top, Sophia was dressed in a similar comfortable fashion like him ready to combat the autumn London weather.

“Are we ready to go?” she asks brightly, slinging her favorite white Chanel purse across her body.

“We? Did we have plans that I forgot or something?” Harry asks, confused as to what’s happening.

“That’s a good question. We, my bunny, are going to get our manis and pedis done! I was able to book us an appointment at our favorite nail salon at the last minute, but thank god they had two free slots this afternoon.”

When Harry just stares at her, not reciprocating her excitement, he sees the moment Sophia’s face starts to fall, eyes lowering to the ground and white ankle booties turning inwards as a nervous gesture.

“Do you not want to go with me?” she asks quietly, ultimately breaking Harry’s heart at her sad tone.

“No,” Harry closes the gap between them and pulls her towards his chest in a tight hug, “No, Sunflower; obviously I would love to get our nails done. It’s just that I was caught off-guard is all.”

He presses numerous kisses on the top of her head, Sophia freezing on his hold.

“Oh no, did you need to do something important? Crap, I should have told you beforehand! I’m so sorry, Harry.”

That just won’t do, Harry thinks, how can he honestly say to her pouting dejected face that she basically ruined his plans for the day to get her birthday gift? He can’t do that to her, especially now that he’s tilting her chin up gently to meet his face and sees that her eyes have turned glassy, a tell-tale sign that she’s about to cry.

“Oh, Sunflower. No tears, please my love. I promise you didn’t ruin anything important. I feel loved and honored that you decided to surprise us with a good relaxing nail day. Thank you, my Sunflower, love you so much.”

Sophia’s lips begin to tremble despite Harry’s reassurance, a little tear falling. “Promise? Didn’t ruin your day?”

“Yes, my love. I promise.” Harry solemnly reassures again, kissing her lips softly and parting with an affectionate rub of his nose against hers.

“Okay, I love you too, bunny. So much.”

And Harry thinks that’s compensation enough for his misfortune for the day. Plus, it also doesn’t hurt that his girl requested to get the same polish that he’s getting, not one to usually do that but has reassured him that she wants to because she wants to show her how much she values Harry sharing his time of the day with her. To be honest, Sophia can have all his time if it means that she’d dote on him for their entire time out like what she did for the remaining of the day; never once leaving his side and hand always clasped with his as if she’d lose him with a bat of an eye.

***

The second day Harry tries his chances on getting the pearl choker, it wasn’t his ladylove to be blamed for the utter disaster that occurred next, it’s his dumbasses friends that are to be held responsible for whatever Harry might be inclined to do once he’s reached their destination.

This time, Harry was actually already in his car when the misfortune began. He gets a quick phone call while driving (thankfully he connected his phone to the system of his car, or his Sunflower would sure have killed him upon knowledge that he’s using his phone while driving) from his girlfriend herself, something about to drive safely to her place and that she’s ready to outshine his outfit for their night out.

First of all, why is he supposed to go to her place? Second, what outfit and night out? Harry takes a quick glance at his soft grey joggers, plain white jumper with a blue plaid jacket outfit, definitely nowhere near party ready.

On a red light, he picks up his phone to check his messages just to see if he missed something today. Just one tap of his messaging app, Harry sees their group chat and without further context, his quick scan of the party poppers emojis and the countless alcohol emojis is enough to tell Harry that he’s two best buds definitely planned a night out.

“Fuck!” Harry curses out loud, quickly dialing Jeff’s contact as the light turns green.

The moment Jeff picks up, Harry’s straight-on throwing profanities at him.

“Bloody fuck, Jeff! What were you thinking suggesting a night out on this specific night?! Jesus fucking christ mate, are you really shitting me right now?!”

Jeff whistles, “Well good afternoon to you too, H. Whatever brought this chirpy attitude? I’m very delighted really.”

Harry groans, “Fuck mate, just answer the fucking question so I know what to do! What’s this night out thing I’m seeing in the group chat?”

Jeff answers in an unsure tone, “Uhm, yeah, Mitch and I planned a last minute night out for the gang because as you already know, we need a congratulatory drink for surviving the big requirements we finished this week. I know you, specifically, want to celebrate that mock business proposal you just had for your Economics class, which you aced by the way, H. Big congrats on that one man!”

As if Harry wants to be praised right now, that’s the farthest thing he wants unless it’s being praised for being the best boyfriend because he finally secured that bloody birthday gift for his Sunflower. So, no thanks, not accepting any praises until he’s got that damn fucking pearl choker with him.

“I fucking knew you two would be the culprits for this, and yes, I would damn like a celebration for nailing that Econ project but under the confines of my own home later tonight without you two idiots ruining my fucking plans!”

Harry’s outburst definitely concerns Jeff now, unsure where it was all coming from. When the latter asks him to calm down, Harry snaps out of whatever red angry haze he was having, and thinks that it’s not safe for him to be driving under this state of anger and stress, choosing to stop at the nearest parking lot of an establishment he was driving by.

Calmly, Harry follows Jeff’s instructions over the phone to take deep calming breaths, grounding him and allowing some sense of clarity to clear his aggravated head.

“So,” Jeff begins after a considerable amount of silence, “Mind telling me why you almost had a stroke on the middle of the road, Mr. Always-Treating-Everyone-With-Kindness-Even-Though-I-Just-Saw-Them-Drop-Their-Dog’s-Shit-On-My-Front-Yard.”

“Heyy, that was only once, and I let them go because I’ve read somewhere before that feces is good for the fertilization of soil.”

Jeff snorts, “You don’t even garden, bullshit to that, or should I say, dogshit to that.”

Harry chuckles, no matter how lame and unfunny Jeff was being he knows it’s his friend’s way of making him feel better.

“Sorry Jeffrey,” Harry says as he begins to explain his earlier actions, “It’s just that I had this afternoon set to pick-up Soph’s gift from the Vivienne Westwood store in central London, and you and Mitch’s party just kind of ruined that really.”

“Oh shit,” Jeff replies, sounding a bit apologetic now, “Sorry H, I thought you were supposed to do that yesterday, or I swear I wouldn’t have instigated Mitch to plan this night out with me.”

“I was supposed to do it yesterday, but my lovely baby also made a last minute plan to get our nails done together, and who was I to reject her kind efforts?”

“Obviously you’re Harry Styles, the most whipped man on this planet.”

“Exactly,” Harry agrees wholeheartedly to Jeff’s teasing, “And for the record, I knew you were the mastermind to this night out cause my mate Mitch is a responsible young lad, unlike you.”

“Excuse me?!” Jeff asks in shock, “I don’t deserve this vile treatment alone, alright? I’d allow you to be a prick when Mitch is here with me because I’m not the only one red-handed here.”

Harry chuckles, starting to drive-out from the parking lot as he has considerably calmed down now, more accepting of the fact that his original plans have already been detoured for a night out in town.

“You’re the mastermind though, Mitch was only a perpetrator.” Harry points out, scoffing Jeff is his only reply, “You two, especially you, have to shoulder my drinks tonight for the massive inconvenience you’ve brought upon me.”

“Oh, so you’re still going? I’m sure the whole lot would understand if I explained to them your situation.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to scoff, “Did you seriously think I’d leave you lot with my girlfriend on a bloody night out at the pub without my supervision? Who the fuck is going to take care of my Sunflower when she gets too tired dancing? Who the hell would attend to her if she got too many drinks in?”

Harry continues to list down all the things and reasons on why it’s a bad idea for him not to come, making sure to throw his friends under the bus (as kindly as he can, though), and adding emphasis on his soppy words about his Sunflower. Harry thinks Jeff deserves his ears to bleed with love as he begins to tell him the number of ways a drunk Sophia would ask him (or purposefully bite and suck on his earlobe to get his attention, Harry’s not selective of the manner) to hand-feed her food as he changes his direction to the latter’s house.

When Jeff has dropped his call in the middle of him explaining the specific details of the changes in Sophia’s laugh indicating the level of drunkness she’s in (rude), Harry’s reached the front door of his girlfriend’s house sending her a quick test that he’s waiting in his car outside.

Sophia looks utterly gorgeous in her cozy all-black autumn-ready night-out dress, a mixture of soft and sexy encapsulated in one stunning blond goddess. Harry feels almost inadequate being in her presence when said goddess opens the passenger door of his car, her bang perfectly framing her lovely face that’s smiling up at him.

“Hey, bunny.” Sophia bends a bit on her seat to kiss Harry on the lips in greeting, “Thank you for picking me up.”

“Hello, my Sunflower,” Harry bends this time on his seat to catch her lips for another kiss, Sophia giggling as he accepts his affections with puckered lips, “You look really lovely.”

“Thank you, again baby. So sweet.” Sophia says and Harry can feel her eyes run down his form as he sets his car back on drive now on their way to the pub where they’ll meet everyone else.

He knows her wandering eyes are filled with curiosity at his very apparent un-night out ready outfit, knowing his reputation of always being dressed best for the occasion is under scrutiny right now.

Harry tries to play it cool, “Can feel you staring, lovie.”

This breaks Sophia’s attention from her rapt staring at her boyfriend, clearing her throat a little.

“Just appreciating your soft look tonight, bunny. Looks goods on you.”

Harry smirks, knowing full-well that his naturally kind Sunflower does not have it in her to criticize, and actually say what her mind’s telling her to. So Harry takes it upon himself to explain his lack-of proper attire without baring his current misfortunes about her birthday gift.

“Well I can feel your mind thinking all the way from here, on why I look like this. And just to let you know, I didn’t pull-out the skinny jeans and flowy button-ups cause I don’t want to freeze my legs and nipples to death from this bloody chilly autumn weather.”

Instead of the appeased reaction he thinks Sophia would give him, when he looks sideways to her for a bit, Harry sees her eyes narrowing at him with her supple pink stained lips pursing in a little pout.

“Are you sure that’s true?” She asks, and Harry freezes for a moment his mind telling him that she probably has an inkling already of his failed attempts to get her birthday gift.

Before his mind can spiral to kind ways that he can teach Jeff a lesson for having a big mouth (I mean, who else could have told her this point?) Sophia speaks again,

“Like you didn’t purposefully wear joggers and a tee to the pub just so I could look better than you, right?” Harry almost chokes on air, and Sophia must have thought he got offended so she scrambles to explain herself further.

“NOT that you look bad or anything,” Sophia reassures him quickly, small dainty hand finding purchase on his right thigh curling around it securely. “I mean, you still look so smoking hot, bunny. I don’t think anybody can pull this look off better than you, like all the girls and boys at the pub would definitely agree with me, and probably want you to pull them home or whatever kids call hooking-up nowadays.”

Harry definitely chokes on air right now as he explodes in surprised laughter, “I don’t know where to begin, Sunflower but I guess I can start by saying thank you for your kind words about my comfortable look tonight, highly appreciate your words of affection as always. Also, you don’t need me to look like this to look better than me, you always fucking are; you’re my gorgeous goddess of a Sunflower!”

Another look sideways to her, Harry sees the pink flush on her cheeks and her timid smile not unnoticed either. Harry takes his right hand off the steering wheel and instead clutches her hand on his thigh tightly, bringing the back of it to his lips for a sweet gentle kiss before saying directly in her eyes,

“Though I think I’d definitely, surely, certainly, undoubtedly, decline any ‘pulling’ tonight. I’d love to think I’d already pulled you ages ago, what do you say we go straight to the pulling portion of the night?”

Sophia squeaks from his suggestion, “HARRY! It’s not even night time yet and you’re already so crude!”

Harry laughs despite her reaction, knows that she’d love him no other way, soft grey joggers and crude words all together. Harry thinks she deserves that damn pearl choker even more now.

***

A night out at the pub with your mates and their girlfriends is always a smashing blast. But unquestionably, the hungover that comes the next day is the definite smashing blast of a time, literally.

Harry thinks that nothing is worse than dragging yourself out the bed with a pounding headache, the only thing keeping him sane and away from his beautiful, cuddly, sleeping girlfriend on his bed is the fact that said girlfriend is the sole reason why he’s getting-up this early and leaving with one last lingering kiss on Sophia’s forehead before he goes to his car ready to hit the shops.

But then maybe Harry’s so hungover that he actually thought nothing can go worse than his current state, as if everything has been sunshine and rainbows for the past two days when he was about to do this specific task at hand. Really, he should have clocked the misfortune coming his way, and he’s not proud of the way he allowed it to shock him and affect his already sour mood to intensify when the misfortune showed itself to him.

Now, it wasn’t because of his girlfriend, but also not because of his friends, this time around the misfortune is hidden in the face of his lovely mother.

Harry receives a call from his mother while on his way once again to the Vivienne Westwood store in the busy streets of London, saying that he needs her lovely son’s help in her floristry. Harry’s not sure who’s the hungover one here, because the last time he checked his mother’s floristry is in Cheshire and he's all the way in London, how can she need his help when he can’t possibly give any? And then it all makes sense when Anne explains (as if talking to a five-year old Harry) that she was currently in London needing his help at her new floristry branch in town.

The surge of annoyance that begins to thrum in his veins is not lost in his tone, “Mum, I thought that would still be for the weekend next week? Like near the end of the month?”

“Well I wasn’t doing anything for the entire day, so yesterday I thought I might as well head to London today just to make an early start with some of the tasks.”

“Well, you could have told me the same thing before springing this information to me at this moment, like I have other things to do too.”

He hears Anne’s sigh of resignation at his sour mood, “Love, I know you’re usually a pleasant morning person, but I honestly don’t know what’s causing this crankiness right now. Are you alright?”

Harry’s unsure if any of them would like his honest answer so he doesn’t even try answering it, instead asks what specific help she needs from him so he can get it done and over with.

Anne thankfully doesn’t push it and asks Harry (well more so instructs him, like he can deny anything his mother may ask of him no matter how annoyed he is) to get himself to her new shop and she’ll tell him what to do once he’s there, adding that he’ll probably do most of the heavy lifting stuff and moving of this and that so he’ll still have some time to do whatever errands she had interrupted.

Harry thinks it was thoughtful of his mother to take that into account, but her shop is literally the other way around from the shop he needs to go for his special errands. Knowing the amount of work he had helped his mother with all her other shops no matter how she labeled it ‘just the heavy lifting’, Harry’s sure he wouldn’t have enough time to get the pearl choker, especially after he tells Sophia that he’s mother is in town, his Sunflower would love to wine and dine her mother like the perfect host she is.

So bitterness aside, Harry tries to think of happy thoughts while once again, detouring his car to the opposite direction of the Vivienne Westwood store much to his displeasure. He doesn’t want to subject his lovely (well, generally lovely if today was to be counted) to anymore of his rather sour mood and even made a quick stop to one of their favorite cafes around the area to fetch a quick pastry as a breakfast for the two of them to solidify that thought of happy thoughts and positive mood.

Anne was obviously delighted to have her usual cheery and joyous boy back, the two working efficiently and amicably as they happily munched on their pastries, conversing here and there about what Harry has been up to and Uni, exchanging stories about their own friends and love ones like they haven’t just FaceTimed earlier this week.

“So, what are your plans for Soph’s birthday?” Anne asks while the two were taking a short break from their work, “I hope you have something up your sleeve because that lovely girl deserves to be treated right on her special day.”

Well, don’t I know it, Harry thinks to himself. “Yeah, I’ve got something planned for it. It’s a surprise though so am not going to tell you.”

Just like his girlfriend, his mother looks at him like what he’s just said was unacceptable, “Why ever not?”

“Because I know you two!” Harry laughs at the exaggerated look of offence on her face, he knows he’s got some of his jokester side from her!

“And what’s that supposed to mean then?”

“That you two ladies love to go behind my back and connive with each other to go against me!”

Anne laughs, “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about but it’s her birthday, not yours so I don’t know what we’ll connive about if it’s not something to surprise you with.”

Harry looks at her with a barely concealed look of skepticism in his eyes, “Sure, I’d just train my mind to forget the time you two decided to make plans for the both of you behind my back like I’m sort of chopped liver left alone to my own devices not worthy of you guys’ time.”

“Heyyy..” Anne whines just an exact carbon copy to the way her son does it, “We thought you had plans with Mitch and Jeff! Soph and I even tried inviting you after, once we found out that you weren’t doing anything important.”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry snorts, “you two decided to give me a text after you’ve finished the hair salon, the nail salon, and even hitting the shops. Sure, I would have loved to follow along when all the fun was basically over.” he finishes in heavy sarcasm.

Anne just looks at him with an unrelenting cheeky smile, “Nope, we stand by innocent up to this day.”

“Yup, still not going to tell you the plans for her 21st!”

Harry leaves her protesting mother, laughing at her squawking protests to at least give her some bits of information as he makes his way back to his working station ready once again to make Anne’s new floristry branch come alive.

He thinks his mother’s unyielding smile thrown at him the rest of the day was enough repayment for another failed attempt at this one last special task that can’t seem to be fulfilled no matter the effort he produces to try and make it happen. To be honest, he thinks that the effort he had exerted in trying to keep-in all his angry emotions is more tiring than actually all the driving he had wasted trying to reach the store. Maybe he should just let things fall to his hands than make a direct effort to make it happen?

***

The fourth and last day for Harry to be able to purchase the reserved pearl choker, he lets go; allows the universe to dictate whatever may happen for the rest of the day.

So he spends his Sunday letting his normal weekend routine take the lead. Harry wakes up quite early in the morning, does his meditation and usual good morning messages to his loved ones before heading to his kitchen to make some french toast, sending a picture of the dish to his girlfriend who’s reply already made his day a good one.

From: Goddess of a girlfriend 🌻: “y u awake? me still 😴”

To: Goddess of a girlfriend 🌻: “Yeah? Are you my sleeping Sunflower right now?”

From: Goddess of a girlfriend 🌻: “yes, ‘m ur 😴 🌻”

After Harry fonds over his non-verbal and strictly-emoji-speaking-in-the-morning ladylove, he continues with his day and begins to accomplish some chores in his flat that he had placed aside over the week due to his course work in uni and all the tasks he had to do for Sophia’s surprise birthday picnic. He didn’t even notice the hours pass by, shocked to see that it was almost lunch time when he picked his phone amongst the neatly folded fresh laundry on his bed, ready to be placed and organized in his closet.

As part of his usual Sunday routine, Harry and Sophia take turns going to each other’s places to have lunch together. Last week, they cooked some vegan sliders in Sophia’s flat, indicating that today would be in his place. With that, Harry goes to his kitchen whistling along to some Spice Girls song he and the gang had sang and danced along during their impromptu night out. He opens the door of his fridge, cataloging its contents and thinking of a possible meal they can enjoy making and eating together.

Harry dials Sophia’s contact on his phone, the FaceTime video that greets him is Sophia’s already wide doe-eyes opened even wider with her mascara wand ready in hand. Harry stands there in the middle of his kitchen just looking and admiring her for a moment as she delicately coats her long lashes with the product, sighing dreamily when she blinks and opens her eyes to look directly at Harry.

“Beautiful,” Harry whispers, not being able to contain himself.

Sophia giggles, “Thank you bunny, you are too. Are you wearing my fluffy pink dressing gown? The one with sparkles on them?”

That makes Harry look down at his attire, giggling too when the lights of the kitchen make the little sparkles speckled on his (or his Sunflower’s apparently) dressing gown gleam even more. “Yeah, I think I am Sunflower. Didn’t even notice that I put it on. It’s really comfy though, and you think I look pretty right?”

“Yeah, always are. Especially in that soft pink color, lovie.” Sophia coos.

“Then I’d probably keep it, if it makes my precious Sunflower call me pretty even if I have yet to take a shower and all that glamming stuff you’re doing right now.”

“Not going to complain, cause I like you in my stuff anyway. Plus, you’re always a pretty bunny, no need for extra glamming up.”

Harry preens at her words, “Thank you my love, I also would like to say that you don’t need prettifying too just to have lunch here with me.”

A look of confusion passes along Sophia’s face, lip gloss wand held mid-air at a halt, “Lunch? Did we have plans or something?”

Harry almost chuckles at her confused expression, especially when what she said resembled the one he did days ago during his first attempt to get her gift. “Uhm, our usual Sunday routine lunch, baby? I think we can cook some spiced grilled salmon, and I think I also have some ingredients to mix up a ceasar salad.”

Sophia gasps, like actually gasps with a hand covering her mouth. Before Harry can start to get concerned at her reaction, she begins to ramble with her words.

“Oh my god! Bunny! I forgot to tell you that Sarah and Glenne insisted that we have a much-needed girl time and went ahead to reserve a table at this new sushi place in town. I’m so sorry that I forgot to inform you, bunny. Now I’m sure your Sunday plans are ruined because of me! Oh my gosh, maybe I can still cancel or something? Though they have been really explicit in saying that no boys are allowed, and I’d probably worry about your safety if you tried to join us. But, maybe I-”

“Sunflower, calm down. Ladylove, relax. No need to stress over anything.”

Harry’s much needed interruption was easily received, Sophia quieting down with a sad pout left on her lips.

Harry thinks it’s funny that his Sunflower was stressing about a simple thing as forgetting to tell him that she and the girls had made an all-exclusive girls only lunch, knowing within himself that if the roles were reversed she would also allow him to change their Sunday lunch routine without extra explanation. So Harry shares his thoughts and reassures Sophia that she certainly didn’t ruin his weekend.

“Besides,” Harry says, still not liking the present sad doubting pout on her lips, “I think Glenne and Sarah’s threats have come across very clearly to me, like I have no doubt that bodily harm will be inflicted on me if I chose to crash you girls’ time.”

Sophia laughs at that, making Harry smile at being able to do that and decides to continue, “Why are you laughing? I’m being serious here, lovie! Have you seen your friends? They’re scary.”

“Now don’t insult them,” Sophia giggles, feign warning in her tone, “or they might actually hear you and beat you up either way.”

Harry laughs in complete triumph, glad that he’s girl seemed to be back and cheery without any traces of that earlier sense of hesitation and sadness. He only wants her to be happy and tranquil, very much proud that he’s one of the only blessed people on earth who can give that to her.

The two continue to chat for a few more minutes, Sophia finishing her hair and makeup while accompanying Harry who’s preparing his lunch, the girl even suggesting for him to message Jeff and Mitch to plan their own all-boys thing so they won’t feel left out. Harry accepts her grain of wisdom and wishes her a good day in return once his ladylove needed to go and leave him to his lonesome.

Harry enjoys his lunch, thumbs typing away to the boy’s group chat asking if they want to meet up at his place for snacks and videogames. To his complete shock, they declined instantly and Harry almost threw his phone on the wall (well maybe he was exaggerating a bit). It’s just that they never decline so easily on any lads plans , especially on a weekend. When he soon finds out why, Harry actually accidentally drops his phone to the floor as he clutches his stomach in loud laughter.

Apparently, Mitch and Jeff had a lot of pending uni course work to finish after being too hungover yesterday to even attempt doing any. Harry truly believes that karma’s a bitch (and wholeheartedly says the same thing to Mitch and Jeff), it only serves them right for ruining his plans last Friday.

Harry’s laughter ceases abruptly, eyes widening upon the realization that he actually has no plans for his day, definite zero plans with any of the people that are prone to interrupt them.

That may only mean one important thing, Harry thinks, quickly finishing his lunch and scrambling for his phone to text the last person that might need his time and alter the route of his day.

Anne replies to his text quite swiftly, Harry genuinely hearing angel’s sing in his flat with his mother’s words that none of his help will be needed for her shop today.

Fuck, is this actually my life right now? Harry thinks, trying to calm his excitement as he makes his way to have a shower and get dressed for the day. He’s learned these past few days that he should take every situation given to him lightly, or else he’d just get devastated when some misfortune ruins it again.

Alright, continue letting the universe do its thing Harry; don’t agitate it and don’t appear too eager or it might poke fun at you and decide to even mess further with your thin chances of being the best boyfriend on earth! Harry feels he might be going crazy if these are the thoughts he’s having while in the shower.

***

Harry’s legs are bouncing up and down on his seat inside his car during a red light, that anxious leg bouncing that you don’t even notice you’re doing nor can stop when you do.

It’s just that his GPS is telling him that the Vivienne Westwood store is literally three minutes away from this stoplight, and nothing bad has happened to Harry yet. He doesn’t really know what kind of misfortune might befall him today when he’s literally minutes away from his destination, but he’s also not that wishful thinking that nothing bad will happen at all. It’s not like he's looking for the misfortunes too (just paranoid, really), but he’d rather take the misfortune right now then later when he’s secured the goods.

Speaking of the goods, Harry was far too lost in his thoughts of fear that he didn’t even realize that now he’s parked just right in front of the Vivienne Westwood store, hands and eyes roaming across his body to check if nothing bad really happened to him on his way here. Astounded that he found nothing wrong or out of the ordinary, he slowly makes his way out of his car and inside the designer store.

The transaction was far too easy and smooth. The lady he talked over the phone with days ago presenting him the pearl choker itself not even five minutes in, making Harry way more skeptic when the pastel pink Vivienne Westwood paper bag was handed to him all kindly by the store clerk as if this was an everyday thing for them (which it probably is), but not for Harry who’s dealt far more stress and adversity in his life just trying to achieve this simple task.

“Thank you very much,” Harry says to the other kind store clerk who opened the door of the store for him as he exited, left hand clenched tightly to the strings of the paper bag.

On autopilot, Harry enters his car and gingerly places the paper bag on the passenger seat, going the extra mile and strapping it on the seat. On his drive back to his flat, he thinks it was quite uneventful, the triumph to the end of his birthday gift misfortunes seeming to be no triumph at all.

But later on, when he’s arrived at home and freely smiling and chuckling at the positive turn of events for the day, he realizes that he probably shouldn’t have downplayed his success by finally obtaining the pearl choker just like he had thought. Because the moment he enters his bedroom, he trips on absolutely nothing, as in just air, dropping hard to the floor with the paper bag just a few feet below his lying form on the ground. Harry groans loudly, absolutely knows that it’s what he gets for devaluing the kindness that the universe lent him earlier.

***

Nothing is going to stand against Harry’s way. The 20th of October would be perfect, must be perfect.

Harry thinks he’s earlier statement during the start of the month, might have been up to something right. How can it not when it’s the morning of the 20th of October and he’s got his Sunflower’s left nipple on his lips, sucking softly and contentedly.

Sophia feels a warm wet heat on her chest, stirring to her senses when she experiences the feeling intensify. She opens her sleep-blurred eyes, catching Harry’s green ones filled with unbridled mirth, abruptly springing back to life from the unadulterated heat creeping up her body. Harry gives her hardened nub a nip with his teeth, swiftly giving the pink nipple a lick to soothe the sting, Sophia’s back arches away from the mattress at the heady sensation.

“Nghhh..” Sophia exhales a mixture of a moan and a groan, hands grasping the messy curls on Harry’s head as the latter continues his loving assaults to her breasts, now alternating his attention on one rosy nipple to the other with the flesh of her tits being littered with adoring sucks and kisses too.

“Holy shit..ahh..” Sophia presses his face closer to her chest, “What the fuck did I wake up to? Jesus, your mouth bunny..nghh!”

With his big hands, Harry gently grabs both of Sophia’s breasts with one on each hand, squeezing it together and bringing it towards the middle of her chest, mouth opening wide and head ducking down to fit both nipples inside the wet heat of his salivating mouth, lips expertly sucking and tongue lusciously licking tight circles on her sensitive nubs.

Sophia’s back arches even further, mouth in a perpetual ‘o’ state as her boyfriend sucks one last deep kiss on her breasts, leaving with an audible pop and a string of his saliva connecting his lips to her breasts, now flushed pink from his earlier attention. Harry smiles devilishly at her already wrecked state, softly massaging the sides of her exposed body, realizing that the shirt of Harry’s that she wore last night was bunched up all the way to her neck.

“Because it’s your special day, I believe my Sunflower deserves some special tending to, right?” He wiggles his eyebrows exaggeratedly making Sophia shake her head in disbelief how he can turn from a dark sensual Harry and back to her often soft and goofy bunny with just a snap of a finger.

Instead of replying, Sophia makes a show of roaming her eyes to the shirt tucked on her neck and hand resting on the hem of it while the other goes to the side band of her white lacy thong, inching it up higher, giving a coy look at Harry’s wandering hungry eyes.

“I’m surprised I still have clothes on, honestly.”

Harry groans loudly, pushing aside her hand holding the hem of his shirt that she had comfortably worn for bedtime and takes the initiative to remove it from her body, throwing it aside somewhere in her room.

“You cheeky little bug,” Harry says amusedly, hands finding their way to touch her newly exposed skin, “Be thankful it’s your birthday..” his thumb and pointer finger rolling her right nipple under the pads.

Sophia exhales a long breath at the feeling, “Well aren’t you going to greet me first?” She takes his expert fingers away from her skin and brings it to her lips with a fleeting kiss before enveloping it with her mouth, sucking his fingers languidly.

The reaction she had wanted to elicit out of Harry was achieved in mere seconds, the latter withdrawing his fingers from her hot wet mouth and urgently surges his lips to hers in a heated passionate kiss. Sophia smiles in glee at his responsiveness, arms and legs wrapping tightly around Harry who’s body is completely glued on top of hers.

Unceasing kissing, top and bottom lips nipped and sucked from each other’s mouths, tongues touching and gliding together in a harmonious pattern of passion, big hands slowly caressing her delicate body with her dainty exhales the only thing coherent she can respond with.

“Fuck, you’re delectable.” Harry raps on her slicked bitten-red lips, expertly flipping their position, prompting a breath of shock from Sophia as Harry maneuvers their bodies in complete ease, his back resting on the headboard with his legs wide open, securely placing Sophia between them with her body leaning back against his heaving naked chest.

“Na-uh,” Harry whispers to her ears hotly, reaching over her closed bended legs to part them wide like his, left hand sliding down to her thighs gripping the milky white flesh while the other curves around her tummy to keep her in place.

Sophia mewls at his soft touches drifting from the bottom of her thigh to the top of it, hand on her belly quietly tapping and caressing her little roundness there, something she knows Harry’s quite obsessed with just like she is with his love handles.

“Bunny, please?” Sophia exhales on his neck where her head was resting, nuzzling it and leaving open-mouth wet kisses and licks to every area of skin she can reach. "Please, bunny? Please more, please..

Harry continues his apparent teasing, hands skimming her inner thighs before returning to her hip bone where the string of her thong is still in obstruction, his nimble fingers snapping it away from her skin, making Sophia gasp and slightly jolt from his hold. But when Harry decides to do no further than that and deliberately repeat his earlier actions, Sophia whines in complaint.

“Shhh, patience my little Sunflower,” Harry soothes, dropping kisses to her shoulder and pinching her now warm tummy. He raises both his legs to place over her parted ones to completely lock her in place, her modesty covered in nothing but her already wet lacy white thong on full display.

Sophia bites her bottom lip, having an inkling to the flow of her boyfriend’s next action as the latter places his right hand all over her pubic mound without any preamble.

“Ohhh fuck,” Sophia cries out softly, feeling Harry’s hand make a hearty grab of her vagina atop her soaked panties.

“Hmm..” Harry hums appreciatively, index and middle finger slowly sliding down to her still covered pussy lips, “So fucking wet already, is my Sunflower’s peach dripping her sweetness for me?”

“Mhhmm, always sweet and dripping for my bunny,” Sophia whimpers as she feels another surge of her arousal flow out of her entrance, Harry’s fingers making instant contact with it resulting in a loud groan of pleasure from her boyfriend.

“Shit, so insatiable, lovie, really dripping uncontrollably on my fingers.” He says almost in wonder, bringing his hand out from her thong, fingers glistening wet with her juices as he brings it to his mouth for a taste.

The couple moan noisily in unison, Harry from the familiar sweet tangy taste of her on his mouth, Sophia at the visual of her bunny enthusiastically licking and sucking his fingers clean, making sure to not waste any of her precious slick. All plans of teasing and drawing this out must have been erased from Harry’s usual sexual agenda as he briskly reached for the band of her arousal-ruined thong sliding it down her fully parted legs, stopping just below her knees.

“Keep those on,” He instructs her gently but firmly, “Will help keep your legs open while I’m having my way at your soaking sweet peach.”

Sophia nods her head uselessly, verbal words now a foreign concept as desire flooded her entire system. Harry seems satisfied with her response, probably feeling smug at his ability to completely render her speechless.

He continues his sweet assault to her body, right hand sliding to cup her entire bare cunt, feeling warmth emanate from within her accompanied with the sticky substance of her wetness. Sophia’s hips buck-up at the first touch of Harry’s fingers on her clit, moaning in appreciation when he gently moves his fingers in circles on the highly sensitive bud. Harry alternates his attention on her clit with bringing his fingers a bit lower to gather more of her wetness at the opening of her pussy lips, indulgently spreading it all over her cunt.

“Will you look at that?” Harry says, catching Sophia’s attention, enraptured by anything Harry does or says right now. She looks at his smirking face, following his line of vision which was resting on his right hand, the hand that has been giving her immense pleasure is completely coated in her thick white wetness.

“Fuck, that’s a lot Sunflower,” Harry brings the hand back down on her opening feeling around, the two of them looking down to see the continuous flow of her wetness, viscous and so much that she feels it pooling at her pink satin sheet and even seeping at the crack of her arse.

“You haven’t even come yet and you’re already so juicy and creamy,” Harry says in wonder, shamelessly bringing his hand to his mouth for another taste, dipping his fingers back on her pussy to scoop more after. Sophia groans and feels a flush run up her cheeks at how dirty and messy this all is.

“Bunny, you’re obscene. You can’t just keep eating that thing from my vagina!” Sophia exclaims in retaliation when Harry returns for the fourth dip, feeling sexual frustration slowly rising within her at the lack of attention and stimulation from her boyfriend.

Harry just looks at her coyly, pink lips stained white with her creamy wetness, “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, baby.” and he surges forward to kiss her. Sophia can’t help the loud moan that erupts out of her when she tastes her own self from his lips, completely unprepared when Harry’s fingers suddenly part her opening and plunges two of his fingers up to the knuckle.

“Ohhh..uhh.. sweet jesus!” Sophia whimpers again and groans as Harry moves his fingers in and out of her pussy, thighs clenching when he uses his thumb to rub her clit, hands finding purchase at her pink sheets grasping it when Harry curls his fingers inside her, hitting that spongy spot inside.

“Ughh, that’s so good, so fucking good, oh god..” Sophia’s eyes shut close at the pleasure, moving her hips a bit to get his fingers deeper inside her.

“Yeah, so good?” Harry asks on her ear, incessantly moving his finger inside her to hit her g-spot dead-on, squeaky sound of her wetness surrounding the entire room, “Love me fucking your peach with my fingers, hm? Can’t believe this sweet pretty thing can be so messy and greedy. Look, don’t even want to let go of my fingers.” Harry makes a show of sliding his fingers out only for her pussy lips to clench and release more sticky wetness to keep him in place.

“Oh my god..” Sophia cries in pleasure when Harry swiftly plunges his fingers back, feeding her pussy the white creamy thickness it had already given out. He continues to fuck her with his fingers, his thumb flicking back up to her clit and Sophia feels her arousal building within her in an instant, thighs trying to close together but Harry clocks her before being able to. His left hand pushed her legs wide open again, threatening the white thong on the bottom of her knees to rip from how stretched out her legs are.

“Harry, ohhh god, bunny, sooo good, too much good!” Sophia wails helplessly, gripping Harry’s knee that was locking her legs in place, the latter only increasing the actions of his right hand on her pulsing cunt, fucking her deep in and out, his left hand having found its purpose on rubbing furiously side to side on her clit, Sophia’s body already shaking with all the sensations mixing together to create a joyful, whimpering mess out of her.

Harry knows her body inside and out, so he definitely must have noticed the signs of her impending orgasm, eyes trained on her extremely glistening wet pussy before looking at her face filled with uncontained sexual enjoyment.

Just when she’s about to reach her peak, Harry stops every movement of his hands. Sophia actually screams out in resentment, ready to berate him. Though she stops in her tracks when Harry rapidly moves away from her back and impressively pushes her own back to rest on the headboard while fitting himself between her parted legs, sliding her thong up to her ankles and raising her legs to rest on his shoulders.

With a wink thrown her way, Harry dives straight into her pussy, his lips, nose, and chin already wet just from the first contact. If Sophia’s moans were already something with just his fingers, the joys Harry’s skillful tongue can give her cannot compete with the heights and intensity her moans are reaching.

Harry prods and flicks his tongue inside her pussy, enjoying licking everything that comes out of her, nose even nuzzling her clit. It’s all too much and too sudden that Sophia begins to quiver intensely, head thrown back mewling deafeningly, hands tugging at Harry’s curls to warn him of her speedily approaching orgasm.

Instead of listening, Harry just devours her cunt even more enthusiastically, with so much more vigor. And when he knows that Sophia can’t hold it any longer, he slid his tongue out of her pussy and clamps it down on her clit to suck harshly, his slight nip at the highly sensitive nub the one to press the tap of her orgasm as Sophia shouts in utter ecstasy as she comes, her pussy squirting so much liquid wetting the entirety of Harry’s face as thick ropes of cum gush out of her entrance too.

Sophia feels so good yet so exhausted after, that she thinks she loses consciousness for a bit. The last thing she remembers is feeling more of her come stream out of her hole, its squeaky sound intensified as Harry begins to clean her with his now gentle tongue, the sight of him looking positively happy and satisfied while doing so, is enough reassurance that Harry won’t mind if she falls back to sleep again.

Before her eyes close, she catches Harry watching her, smiling proudly and looking quite ridiculous with her release spread everywhere on his face.

“Happy 21st birthday, my Sunflower. I love you always.”

***

“So are you going to tell me now where we’re going?”

“Again, how can it be a surprise if I just tell you now? Do you even know how a surprise goes? Or like what that even means?”

Harry snickers at the look of disdain Sophia is giving her, eyes returning back on the road in front of him as he drives the two of them to the secret destination for her birthday picnic.

After the very eventful morning they’ve had (which if anyone is asking, was definitely continued in the bathroom to Harry’s utter delight), the two had proceeded to get a head-start with their day, Harry informing Sophia giddily that her special day was indeed going to be much more special than her envisioned movie night and baking together.

Harry had prepared the two of them some vegan chocolate chip pancakes, Sophia trying her hardest to sweet talk him and get as much information about their day. Harry didn’t even bat an eye at her futile attempts to cuddle behind him while they were eating, whispering words of appreciation at his rather pleasant regard for her this morning, Harry only noses at her cheek and picked up his own fork to feed her another bite of their breakfast telling her to dress in her best summer dress.

Obviously, Sophia had looked at him like he had grown two heads as he consistently reassured her while getting ready that he wasn’t going crazy and there’s no way in hell that he would let her, on her bloody birthday even, to freeze her brain-off.

“You’re too young for that, not going to plan your demise on your 21st.” Harry had teased her, Sophia looked at him with mock disturbance.

“But you are planning my death? Like on my 23rd birthday, or something?”

“Nah, that’s too young. Maybe when we have an off-spring already so there’s still you in some form.”

“BUNNY! You’re so ridiculous!”

Harry had sufficiently distracted Sophia enough with his weird words to successfully hide her birthday gift somewhere in his car as his girlfriend followed his instructions of dressing in her chosen summer dress and left it to Harry to bring warmer gear.

When they were ready to leave her place, Sophia had looked at Harry with a clear sense of betrayal on her face, hands gesturing wildly at his attire of a cream colored long-sleeve button-up under a baby blue knitted jumper with a cute little chick stitched in the middle.

“What’s this?” She had asked in bewilderment. Harry had looked at his attire, unsure what she meant by her comment.

“Um, my jumper? I think mum got it for me a few weeks ago, want me to ask her where it’s from?”

Sophia had just stared at him in annoyance, “My question is not where you got it, it's more on why the heck are you wearing that and I’m wearing a sleeveless summer dress? Are you sure you’re just not taking the piss at me today?”

Harry knew he wasn’t supposed to laugh when his girlfriend seemed to be serious with her question, but she had that disgruntled kitten face on and he’s not immune to that so he laughed. Evidently, Sophia just got more annoyed at his reaction and had decided to completely ignore him as they had started their journey to her surprise. That just won’t do for Harry, especially when he had even made a special birthday-road trip playlist for her that she’s not commenting on or even singing along to. In the end, Harry relents and decides to tell her something about his surprise just to be back on her good side.

Of course, all he said was that it would be outdoors and that wherever it is, they’ll be eating their lunch there. Sophia thought once Harry had begun telling her some stuff, she could continue to squeeze every information out of him, but her boyfriend had better self-restraint now after the trials he had faced just for her damn birthday gift, so it would take him more than her silent treatment for him to spill his surprise. Instead, Harry had promised Sophia that she can wear his jumper later when she gets cold, knowing that she has more interest in his blue jumper than she had let on.

To Harry’s relief, it had appeased his girlfriend’s questioning for the greater part of their drive, except now when she decides she’s garnered more energy to start pestering Harry with questions again now that they’re about five minutes away from their destination.

“Whatever, you’re no fun.” Sophia says after Harry had just teased her right now about not being knowledgeable about surprises.

She knows that he was only joking and trying to deflect her questioning, so instead of indulging his segway for banter, Sophia moves closer to him by wrapping an arm around his position on the gear shift and nuzzles her face on the soft wool covering his biceps.

Harry chuckles at the sudden change in her demeanor, “You sleepy, baby?”

Sophia nods meekly, using his arm to cover her yawn, “Yeah, kinda. May you please tell me how near or far we are still? I’m sure that you can tell me.”

“Thank you for asking so nicely, Sunflower,” Harry giggles on her hair, dropping a little kiss on her bangs, “And yes, that I can surely tell you without giving away my amazing surprise; we’re about three to five minutes away.”

Sophia groans, rubbing her cheek on his jumper, “Maybe you can carry me there, or something?”

“Can’t, might trip on the grass and drop the two of us on our assess in the picnic set-up.”

The two gasp simultaneously after that, hands on their mouths in shock. Harry because he pretty much just blurted out that they’ll be having a picnic when they’re already inside the grounds of their destination, and Sophia because she didn’t even have to try anything this time for him to spill her birthday surprise.

“Shit!” Harry face palms himself, Sophia returning to sit properly on her seat unable to contain her enjoyment, “You weren’t supposed to know that! Forget that you heard anything!” He even points a finger at her for emphasis.

Sophia’s giggles only intensify at his adorable distressed kitten face, “Well I guess I should trust you more when you said that you’ll tell me about the surprise eventually; eventually meaning you’ll confess your own surprise literally a minute away to achieve it.”

“Shut it!” Harry says firmly, yet without any heat as he’s trying to control his laughter for he’s epic failure. Seriously, how does this happen to him? Sophia literally didn’t even do anything this time and he’s too-honest of a mouth just decided to spill valuable information.

Ultimately, Harry can’t hold in his laughter anymore (the fact he even tried is laughable on its own) and the couple enjoyed a few minutes of laughter in the parking lot of their destination, ending in a few fond kisses shared between the two.

Now that she knows the general gist of what this day will entail, Sophia excitedly accepted the knitted cardigan that Harry had brought for her, securing it tightly around her long pink satin summer dress as they make their way out of Harry’s car, the latter opening her door for her like the absolute gentleman that he is.

“I’m not wearing heels, no need for your arm around me.” Sophia says when Harry’s arm remained wrapped around her waist as they began to walk in the flat grounds of the massive park Harry had brought them this early afternoon.

“Don’t care, want you always by my side, lovie.” Harry retorts in a saccharine sweet voice, dropping a loud smack of his lips on her flushing cheeks.

“You’ve already prepared me a picnic, no need for extra sappy words. Love you a lot more for even arranging this day.” Sophia says, reaching for the arm around to hold on.

Harry looks at her side of the face, amazed, “You haven’t even seen it yet and you’re already dropping the ‘L-word’ bombs. What if it was shit?”

Sophia snickers, squeezing his that’s curled against her hip, “Not possible, you know how much I adore picnics. And the fact that you’re giving me one in the middle of the bloody chilly autumn weather, makes me extra excited and grateful to know and see how you’ll pull this one off.”

Sophia’s excitement was certainly pleased upon seeing the special birthday picnic that Harry had gotten prepared for her. It was situated in the middle of an open area, the green grass free from any orange leaves that must fall from the various surrounding trees of the area. White pillars are stationed in the little stone walkway that they’re currently passing by to come nearer the picnic set-up.

Sophia’s positively awed when they finally reached the picnic set-up itself, admiring all the potted flower arrangements scattered around the vicinity. She claps in excitement as she scans the little pastries, sandwiches and snacks placed on the little low pink table for two on the ground, more flowers and some pink candles situated within the table are visible too.

“And I think this is the ultimate finishing touch for your birthday picnic,” Harry says, catching her attention to look at what he’s pointing out.

Sophia laughs as she notices for the first time the big white, fringy umbrella propped on the ground. “There’s no sunlight, H! This huge umbrella is definitely not needed.”

Harry only rolls his eyes at her, “Obviously, I know that. I still got it placed here though to take some cute pictures of you under it.”

“Some?” Sophia teases, knowing how often Harry makes her pose for pictures every time they go out.

“Now, you’re no fun,” Harry copies her earlier utterance at him in his car, “Is it such a shame that you have a dotting boyfriend that loves to have his Sunflower’s face all-over his technological devices and social media accounts?”

“No, not really, as long as said Sunflower can also take her turn taking pictures of her charming, enchanting, bewitching boyfriend?”

Harry places a hand on his heart, “I would love to, I thought you’d never ask.”

***

The picnic was a success, that much Harry can confidently say as he prepares Sophia’s third cup of lavender tea, seeming to be her new favorite thing thanks to Harry’s creative choices of food and beverages.

“Are you sure this is edible?” Sophia asks as they begin to eat a new box of pastries, pointing specifically at a sugar cookie frosted with white icing and a final touch of an edible flower in the middle.

She looks up at Harry after taking a photo of said cookie, he’s stopped mid-chew with his cheeks filled with the cookie in question looking at her sheepishly.

“I think it’s edible?” He answers, unsure. “It better fucking be cause I just stuffed my face with half of it in one bite.”

Sophia giggles, reaching over the table to wipe-off some of the crumbs that have fallen on the side of his lips, thumb digging on the dimple that was now caved-in on his cheek due to her caring touch. It hits her how much she’s in-love with this carefree and kind spirited angel, who has taken it upon himself to go the extra mile and prepare this picturesque summer picnic for her no matter the odds that the autumn weather had proposed. The simple action of actually giving his jumper for her to wear right after they had taken their photos, shows how he follows through with his promises and how genuine he is with his intentions.

“I love you,” Sophia blurts out, completely out of the blue if the widening of Harry’s eyes in clear surprise is any indication.

Harry holds her hand that is gently rubbing his cheek in affection, “I love you too, my Sunflower. I hope you’re having an amazing 21st birthday, I only want to make you happy all the time.”

“Aren’t you a simple man with simple dreams? Cause I can assure you that you do, in fact always make me happy.”

And that’s true, Sophia can write paragraphs upon paragraphs of the simple things that Harry does unknowingly or knowingly that always makes her feel like the happiest girl in the world. Might it be the simple mundane things, like picking her up after her class for uni because he knows how his company always gives her a sense of comfort and rest after such a stressful studios day, or how he sometimes gets her new blankets and quilts every time he goes out to the shops because he knows how she gets easily cold and love to smother herself with the warmth the cotton or wool provides, even if she’s got a whole collection of blankets already he consistently finds ways to spoil her. Like right now, Sophia feels all the happy hormones in her body springing alive as Harry slots her under his arm allowing her to borrow her face on his soft warm chest, the two cuddling close as Harry had expertly packed them a bunch of blankets that they can wrap themselves around with during their picnic. Theoretically, the amount of blankets he had brought makes it possible for them to have a few each, but Harry had been insistent on keeping her close to his side for the entirety of their day, promises of hand-feeding her their treats and sharing the last cup of lavender tea was enough persuasion for Sophia to share her blankets with him. And let’s be honest, is it really even a chore to be cuddled-up and snuggled warm in the strong secure arms of your boyfriend?

So Sophia contentedly spends the rest of her day in the coziness of Harry’s presence, conversations between the two were ever-present as they finished their way on every single morsel left of their delicious picnic delicacies.

“Crap, it’s finished,” Sophia informs Harry, raising the last pink box that contained their food and flipping it over to show her point. “I think you ate majority of the contents of this one, Bunny.”

Harry feigns a gasp, “Totally not true, you just think that cause I probably picked most of it with my hand, but fed it to your waiting mouth Ms. Birthday girl.”

“You make me sound like such a spoiled and starved person,” Sophia laughs.

“I mean you kinda are, don’t think I didn’t notice the times you physically grabbed my hand to feed you the sandwich that was supposed to be for me, not even a minute after finishing yours.”

“That only happened once!” Sophia defends her dignity, giggling along with her boyfriend. “And it’s not my fault you genuinely wanted to indulge me on everything I want to today, you spoil me enough on the regular, lovie.”

Harry sighs happily, not even trying to deny her point, “Totally true, and you so deserve much more than what I give you daily, Sunflower. And since it’s your birthday right now, it gives me a better reason to spoil you even more. Get ready for these special treats coming your way.”

Sophia doesn’t know what he means by that, staying planted on her cushion seat as Harry removes his hold around her to stand-up, instructing her to stay where she is and just leaving her with a wink. She doesn’t know where he’s headed, but chuckles to herself nonetheless upon witnessing a happily skipping Harry going somewhere to fetch some more treats for her.

Not even more than five minutes later, her boyfriend arrives back in her sight, this time around carrying something on his hands that’s covered in one of his woolen blankets that she loves to use when she’s at his flat. Whatever may be inside the thing he’s carrying, seems to be something important judging the way Harry takes his time to walk.

Instead of going back to his seat beside Sophia, Harry carefully places the blanket covered thing he was carrying just seconds ago. Sophia just looks at him curiously as Harry takes a seat on the bare grass beside it.

“Okay,” Harry claps his hands, an excited smile on his lips, “Before you open this very special parcel from me, I want you first to blow a candle and make a wish.”

Harry begins to reach inside the front pocket of his trousers, producing a tissue covered rainbow sprinkled cookie much to Sophia's surprise.

“I knew that one of the boxes was missing one treat,” She says in jest, as Harry smiles mischievously at her while retrieving a little pink candle on his other pocket together with a lighter.

“I honestly snuck this one in my pockets for a treat for myself later, like on our way back home in the car while you’re sleeping. Then I realized I did forget to reserve another treat for you to use as your birthday cake to wish on, since I know you’re not that keen on cakes in general.” Harry confesses, smiling sheepishly at her.

Sophia decides to tease him, “So thank the lord for your cheeky ways of sneaking a cookie in your pocket to munch on later without the knowledge of your girlfriend?”

“Exactly!” Harry says in utter agreement, “I knew you would always see the better light of any situation.”

Sophia just snorts at her bunny’s dorkiness, deciding to let his antics go and just appreciate his cute gesture as Harry twists the candle to stand properly in the middle of the cookie before lighting it up with the lighter on his other hand. It doesn’t even surprise her when Harry begins to sing her a happy birthday, voice deep and melodious as he asks her to close her pretty eyes and make a wish.

Her wish was simple, to just be able to spend all her next birthdays on this earth with her bunny right beside her. She blows the candle with a smile on her face just thinking about this time next year and wondering whatever cloying thing Harry might have under his sleeve for her 22nd.

Before her mind can get lost in any more exciting thoughts about their future together, Harry clears his throat gaining her attention. He has a timid smile on his lips, hand placing the cookie with a candle on the table before rubbing both his hands together as if ready to explain something, eyes darting back and forth from her eyes and the blanket covered package in front of them.

Sophia grins, “Is this my pressie?”

Harry returns her grin, “Yeah, it is. And for someone who has time and time again said they don’t want anything for their birthday, you seem oddly excited for this.”

Sophia squeaks in indignation, cheeks coloring with a blush in slight embarrassment, “Well I don’t need anything more special than you just being here with me and all, but that doesn’t meant I can’t appreciate or get excited when you decide to also give me some material things.”

Harry smiles kindly at her explanation, reaching over the parcel between them to give her a tender kiss on the lips, couldn’t resist biting her tempting plump bottom lip as they part.

“I know, my love. I was just kidding, no need to be embarrassed about anything, Sunflower. Besides, I think that I’m the one who’s supposed to be a little bit embarrassed here for what I’m about to confess.”

Now Sophia looks at Harry in confusion, unsure if she should feel concerned about where this conversation might lead to. Sensing her conflict, Harry reaches for both her hands to interlock with his own, resting it cautiously on the seemingly highly precious cargo between them.

“I’m not confessing anything extreme, so no need to worry your pretty little head over anything, my Sunflower.” Sophia trusts Harry with everything she has so his reassurance has simply calmed her whirling mind. She lets their connected touch to ground her, squeezing his hand reassuringly for him to continue.

Harry exhales soundly before breaking into a few chuckles, “It’s ridiculous how nervous I’m being when I know I technically didn’t even do anything wrong. It’s just that I know you’d ask eventually how I knew you wanted a picnic for your birthday, and I’m surprised it hasn’t even come up yet this entire afternoon.”

“It didn’t really cross my mind to be honest,” Sophia supplies, thumb rubbing his knuckles in thought. “I mean I just assumed you knew I loved picnics in general, cause we do it every summer wherever we maybe, and you wanted to give that experience to me on my special day.”

“Well maybe I wasn’t as smart as you thought I was then, since it didn’t come quickly to me what you had possibly wanted to do today besides a regular chill night-in together that you had specifically voiced about. Not going to lie, but it took me like half of a day to figure out what special thing to do for your birthday and what the heck I was going to get you.”

“Half a day isn’t bad at all, bunny. Is this what you’re nervous about telling me? Because you know that I don’t really care about that and I’d love you just as much even if you didn’t go the extra mile and plan this day out.”

“No, it’s not that,” Harry smiles, how can he not every time he’s girlfriend tells him she loves him, “And I love you so much too, Sunflower, even if you were too shy to express what you have wanted in the first place which made me result in doing something I’ve never done before.”

“What do you mean? You’ve planned a picnic date for us several times already.”

There’s once again that sheepish glint in Harry’s smile as he begins to just come out with what had occurred, “Well those times I knew you wanted to have a picnic, this time around I didn’t. So I’ve kind of stumbled upon your Pinterest account in my laptop upon researching for what special thing I can do, and I might have.. well I certainly did look around your boards and found out what kind of celebration and gift you wanted.”

“Alright, that’s all it is?”

Sophia watches in absolute amusement at the way Harry’s jaw suddenly drops, like he can’t believe what just came out of her mouth.

“What do you mean ‘that’s all it’? You’re not even mad or anything? I basically snooped into your private Pinterest account, Sunflower.”

Sophia just shrugs her shoulders, in a completely nonchalant way, “It’s really not a big deal, bunny. You know how much I value communication in our relationship and this just shows me that you do too. And it’s not really snooping when you didn’t actively try to find my Pinterest, it just stumbled upon your responsible hands.”

“Phew,” Harry breathes out in relief, right hand wiping imaginary sweat from his forehead, “Aren’t you a sweet little thing? Again, you really do see the positive perspective in every situation.”

“I mean, you might even want to call me a sweet and genius little thing for accidentally leaving my account open on your laptop, cause it literally brought me to this amazing summer picnic surprise in bloody autumn, and what I’m assuming is also a superb birthday pressie without even having to verbally confess it myself.”

“Ohh, so that’s how it is then?” Harry chuckles at the smug look on Sophia’s gentle features, “You think you’re such a clever little Sunflower for getting your silent way through this? Well if you’re that smart, then you for sure know what’s inside this little thing here? Cause baby, this was the farthest thing from easy to get.”

This time around, Sophia gives Harry a rather questioning expression, “For argument's sake, I would like to say that yeah, I’m a genius little Sunflower and definitely know what’s my pressie, but for sincere communications sake, I honestly have not opened my Pinterest for a good three to four months already? Like, I’m a sweet, genius, and quite forgetful little Sunflower?”

It really should be funny the way Harry actually physically deflates on his seat on the grass, no remnants of his joking humor left on his cherubic face in just like a flick of her dainty fingers. A pout begins to form on Sophia’s cold lips at the emerging almost deprecating sad smile on Harry’s similarly chilly wind-bitten lips.

“Well shit,” Harry lets out, squeezing their interlocked hands tighter with a quite dejected chuckle released, “Not going to lie, I had to go through a handful of shitty situations just to get you this gift, and I’m going to tell you all about it later. I just bloody hope you’ll still love it, even if you apparently have not opened your account for a few months now. But, I’d still love you nonetheless if you decide to return it and I’ll happily get you something else.”

“Oh, bunny. Come here,” Sophia lightly pulls on their connected hands to bring him towards her, the two meet half-way over the present in a crushing hug. Sophia tries her best to convey in her hug the reassurance her bunny needs, that there’s literally no room for him to be nervous about anything. Cradling his face, she scatters several sweet kisses all over his face, wanting that dimple on his cheek to appear once again.

“Bunny, I’m sure I'm still going to love your pressie no matter what it is, no need to worry about anything. Always grateful for anything you give me, right? I did still love those macaroni friendship bracelets you made for me way back in our younger days even if it got infested with ants later on and I still cleaned it and wore it the following day.”

“I guess,” Harry finally giggles, probably remembering seven-year old him tenderly kissing the ant-bitten red skin of her tiny wrist even if six-year old her had countlessly reassured his sad pouting face that everything was alright and they’re still the bestest of friends.

“It’s not an I guess, is a definite yes that I’m still going to adore whatever is in this, you know what, let’s actually open this now so you can see that I’m being honest like always.”

With one of their hands still intertwined, together they begin to unravel the blanket, revealing the pink Vivienne Westwood paper bag under it. Sophia’s eyes widen, locking her gaze on Harry’s green ones filled with growing excitement at her instant shock.

“Come on, open it, Sunflower. You precious baby, already astonished with just the parcel. And if you must know, you’re real treat is inside this.”

“I know, don’t tease me! Just feeling giddy all of a sudden!” The couple giggling continue to help each other retrieve a smaller white box inside the paper bag, Harry settling to let go of their joined hands and instead to place both of his palms on his smiling cheeks to watch in anticipation as Sophia opens the box to reveal the pear choker.

Exhaling a sigh of excited trepidation, Sophia cautiously holds the white box, slowly opening the lid with her eyes still solely focused on Harry’s face. When she had finally gotten in the open, Harry laughed at her unyielding eyes and attention still fixed on him and not her present.

“Sunflower, I know that you’re sincere when you say that my company is a present enough, but that pressie in your hands might get jelly that you think I’m more important.”

“You genuinely are more important than any material thing.”

Harry laughs, “Sunflower! Just look at it already, please, my ladylove?”

Sophia finally relents, Harry’s rather coquettish fluttering of his long eyelashes at her seems to always affect her. Eyes slowly trailing downward, Sophia has to blink her own eyes a few times in successive manner as the rare London sun seems to decide that it was the perfect moment to show itself in their autumn picnic. It's sunny beam hitting the pearls making it glisten far too brightly for her eyes.

Sophia catches on quickly after that, eyes widening even further with her cute little mouth opening in a stunned ‘o’ shape.

Harry raises his shoulders to reach his ears in an utterly adorable gesture, “Pearls for the most darling pearl of my life?”

And then Sophia cries.

Big fat tears began to slowly fall down her flushed cheeks, Harry instinctively collecting her inside his arms in a tight hug, whispering words of affection straight to her ear in a way to calm her down.

“I guess you like it then?” Harry asks when he can no longer feel any of her tears wetting the side of his neck.

“Is that even a question? Of course I bloody love it, bunny! How can I not?”

“Oh thank god, my humiliating face-first fall on the ground over thin air is not out of waste.”

“What?”

***

Sophia’s still in awe even after countless minutes of admiring the pearl choker with Harry, even when she had timidly asked the latter to clasp the pearl choker around her neck, or even after Harry had divulged the stories of his misfortune adventure of just wanting to get this present for her. Obviously, she couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous fall on the floor of his bedroom, not even shying away to say her wish of being there to see it first-hand.

Even right now, on their way back home to Harry’s flat, Sophia still can’t control her own hand from tenderly clutching the cold little pearls connecting together this beautiful and dreamy piece of jewelry. Her eyes go sideways, studying Harry’s magnificent side-profile while driving, his artisan chiseled jaw being emphasized even further from the flashing lights of the London city lights. He’s shining very brightly, Sophia thinks, not even just physically but even his aura within him seemed to be dazzling and glimmering with pure merriment.

“Hey, bunny?” Sophia calls for him quietly.

He turns his head upon her gentle request, “Yes, my Sunflower?” his left hand finding rest on her soft thigh.

Sophia can’t help the dreamy sigh that escapes her lips, “I know I’ve already expressed enough how much brightness and happiness you give me with your love. But, I don’t think I’ve ever told you straight out that you’re the best, like the best boyfriend ever because you are! Like you’re the bestest boyfriend in the world, my bunny.”

Harry Styles only wanted to be the best boyfriend on the planet when planning his girl’s special day. And yet here he is, delicately caressing the supple skin of her milky thigh where the hem of her pink satin dress had bunched-up, can’t quite believe that her now sleeping girlfriend had called him the bestest boyfriend in the world, now that’s enough retribution for everything related to that damn pearl choker.

SNEAK PEEK: Bunny and the Wine Nights at Gemma's

Because it's Bunny's 28th today, here's a little sneak peek on my upcoming work! 💞

*~*~*

Gemma Styles has a very special place in Sophia’s heart.

Aside from her parents (the people who raised her), flowers, (her babies that give her the utmost happiness), and red velvet cupcakes (the love of her life as it seems), Gemma holds the remaining good part of Sophia’s heart.

They had met in university, the two sharing the same flat building. Thoughts of that same flat always brings an unwelcome shiver in Sophia’s spine upon remembering how it was filled with outrageously smart and stuck-up teenagers who seemed to have never experienced a good time.

Sophia met Gemma one early afternoon, sitting at the common rooms while sipping on some wine.

She was shocked to see wine being drank that early, but was more-so perplexed at seeing someone actually using the common rooms when Sophia had only been alone in the same area weeks prior, never seeing a soul who wanted to join her lounge-about.

Sophia had thought the rest of her flatmates in the building were always cooped up in their room, painstakingly glued to their computers watching the British economy move up and down as their extremely odd form of entertainment.

With just that perception in common, Gemma and Sophia had hit it off that same day when Gemma had sighed in total relief for finally meeting someone aside from brainiacs that made her feel stupid. It had been another shared feeling between the two, making their first interaction go on swimmingly. Plus, Sophia and Gemma share the same love for wine which the latter said ran in their family making Sophia part of it now.

So how can Gemma not have a special place in Sophia’s heart when she said the sweetest thing ever to her in just a day of meeting?

It’s further proven how Gemma Styles is a true woman after Sophia’s heart when she met and matched every effort Sophia had exerted to continue building on their friendship all throughout their hectic days in uni. It’s a testament to their will-power and genuine love for each other with how they remained friends despite their clear differences.

Straight-out the bat, Gemma is the most strong-minded and blunt human being Sophia has ever met in her whole existence on earth. Every single one of their friends who had met them as best friends already, would always question how someone as sweet as Sophia would be close to Gemma who was constantly viewed as the most outspoken and unforgivingly forward in their small friend group.

Well, opposites attract, right? And honestly, there is just as much bluntness in Sophia as there is sweetness in Gemma. It only shows between the both of them and their innate, personal, closeness. The pair don’t see the need to show and justify to others why the two of them just work as best friends, and that none of their questioning will break that special bond they have.

Besides, Sophia could assure you that Gemma would be the sweetest and cuddliest little kitten whenever Sophia’s sad. At the same time, Sophia would gladly be the most strong-minded and unapologetic blunt mother hen whenever Gemma does something stupid like getting herself drunk with four bottle of wine in one single night just because of an idiot ex-boyfriend.

Now Sophia’s sweet nature is honesty not one for swearing but screw that stupid piece of poopy-headed exes because no woman should feel like they’re not enough for some boy.

Clearly, Gemma and Sophia balance each other out in an impeccable fashion and find themselves in a continuous tight-knit friendship even after graduating.

Gemma also happens to be a God sent in Sophia’s life for she was the one who had told Sophia about the open space for renting under the building of Gemma’s growing design firm. Together, the pair built Sophia’s flower shop with her own best friend as her interior designer. The perks of having an interior designer of a best friend who has her own firm just above the top of her own shop is something Sophia often felt grateful about.

Now you’d probably think that Sophia and Gemma know everything about each other at this point in life as successful business women. Considering the fact that Sophia was the first one to figure out Gemma was seeing someone just from the bubbly change in her demeanor, Sophia believes Gemma and her have an excellent grasp on each other’s everything much to Gemma’s dismay of wanting a grand reveal for her now serious boyfriend, Michal.

He’s a good guy and a truly brilliant choice, in Sophia’s opinion.

What’s not good however is her realization that there are still lingering little things that she might not know about her best friend.

Like the fact that Gemma wants to set Sophia up with her younger brother.

The remaining part of the fic comes sometime this February 🙈

HES - Bunny Shots

*** Stand-alone stories about Bunny and Sunflower set in no particular universe or timeline. These shots are not connected nor follow the same plot-line, unless specified.***

Happy reading, lovelies! 🌻

Grammy Bunny (post-Grammy party for the bunny.) Bunny's Love On Tour, Literally (before, during, and after Vegas.) Bunny and the Pearl Choker (the adventure of wanting to be the best boyfriend for Sunflower's 21st.) Bunny in Amalfi (Bunny just popped the question; engagement-moon shenanigans ensues.) Honey Bunny (For his every creation, one muse it behind it all. ABO au.) *ON-GOING*

"Yes please, Bunny." (Appreciation post for Bunny's Pleasing, with an addition of a curly bubby.) "Show your Bunny that you love him so-oh-oh.." (Best friends to lovers Christmas fic. featuring the best JB song of all time: Mistletoe.)

Gingerbread Bunny (When Bunny's Christmas Eve plans revolve around his two girls.)

Bunny and the Wine Nights at Gemma's (The times Gemma Styles failed to live her cupid dreams and the time she accidentally succeeded.)

Should Bunny Keep Driving? (Bunny as a McLaren F1 driver ft. yellow handbags, gelatos, and falling in love under champagne showers and Italian sunsets.)

The Bunny League (Bunny as a Mercedes F1 driver)

Gingerbreadbunny

My other Holiday fic!

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The light pitter-patter of small feet on the carpeted floors is enough to tingle Harry’s senses to awaken.

That’s what being a father to a too sunny, too active, too animated, too independent three-year-old daughter does to you.

Harry feels the familiar dip of his side of the bed, lips threatening to curl up on their own as his closed eyelids can imagine the highly cute way his daughter crawls to reach his ‘sleeping’ body, her little bum wiggling upwards to reach her father’s long torso. The sign of his daughter’s success is felt through warm, small hands finding purchase on Harry’s sleep-puffed face.

“Wakey, daddy, wakey.” Harry’s daughter tries to whisper in the quiet of the cold room, little fingertips tapping her father’s cheek in earnest.

Harry acts as if he was still asleep, body rumbling in a loud snore like all those times his daughter has decided to wake his wits too early in the morning without the necessity of waking at such time. Her giggles at Harry’s ridiculous acting etches the smile on Harry’s lips that he’s been trying to hold-off, his daughter’s knowing hands squeezing his cheeks together.

“Daddy, I know you’re awake, silly.” Molly giggles, same green eyes brightening up as Harry flutters his own to look at her daughter.

Harry is known to exaggerate sometimes, but he thinks it’s only fair that he feels the air get knocked out of his system every time he gets a good look at his daughter’s face that is no doubt a mini replica of his sleeping wife’s gorgeousness. Molly might have gotten his green irises, but all other physicalities (and personality, just wait and see) is all Sophia’s down to the T.

With that being said, the faux innocent tint his daughter is giving her sleep coated eyes, is one that Harry is familiar with even before Molly was born.

“Princess, why are you awake this early?” Harry quietly rumbles, hands reaching up to fix his daughter’s sleep rumpled hair, the little girl barely allowing Harry to do so as she moves away from his hands by crawling her way up to plant herself on her father’s chest.

“Ooof,” Harry lets out in slight surprise, resting his hands to hold Molly’s little body steady on his warm chest. “Always so jumpy in the morning, you are.”

Molly only giggles at her father’s comment, little chubby arms wrapping around Harry’s neck as she perches her chin right at the top of her father’s sternum.

“Have to wake-up cause it’s the 24th daddy,” Molly explains, “Why you and mummy still sleeping?” she tilts her head in a frown, far too adorable for Harry’s tired state.

Harry bops her nose, “And how do you know it’s the 24th hm, miss smarty?”

In a tone far more exasperated than the fond look Harry is giving her, the three-year-old rumbles, “It’s in the advent calendar, daddy! Last door today, mummy said!”

“Shh.” Harry quickly tells her daughter in a gentle approach, forefinger placed on his lips that his daughter tries to copy but fails ultimately because her pouting lips are pressed on Harry’s skin. “Inside room voice please. And mummy is still sleeping so we have to be quiet, okay?”

Understanding dawns swiftly on her daughter, green eyes rounding just like her cute little mouth formed in an ‘oh’ as she looks at her mother’s sleeping form beside Harry on the bed.

“Quiet, mummy is asleep.” Molly repeats firmly to Harry, the latter dimpling that he just got slightly told-off by her daughter by doing nothing after he slightly told her off for the one being too loud.

Harry really doesn’t want to accidentally wake Sophia by their daughter’s far too early bright energy since Sophia had been a real trooper last night finishing all their unwrapped gifts. Harry prides himself in being ace at gift wrapping so Sophia and him had planned to do most of it last night in one go. What they didn’t put into consideration is their daughter’s absolute excitement to anything Christmas related, Harry needing to assist a fussing Molly last night who didn’t want to sleep because the toddler was high-strung for their Christmas Eve activities the next day.

Nine hours of sleep later (she could have had twelve if she didn’t hackle her father for three hours worth of Christmas stories, singing and cuddles), Molly is obviously invading her parents' peaceful room to exude her youthful excitement for the festive day ahead.

That makes Harry stop in realization.

“Princess, how did you know it’s the 24th today? I don’t remember mummy ever saying that to you exactly.” Harry quietly hums, brow raising at the way her daughter bites her lip at his question. “Have you woken-up extra early to practice your numbers?”

Molly is obsessed with Christmas. She has been asking her mother to assist her with her special, sugar-induced treats advent calendar because despite her persistent independent desires, Molly is not yet completely fluent with her numbers thus the dates of the month are still quite tricky for her to remember correctly. How she was able to remember that today is the 24th of December, brings high suspicious thoughts into Harry’s mind.

Molly spills out giggles from her pink lips, cheeks squishing down and nuzzling on the expanse of her father’s neck like the cuddlebug that she is. Harry only hugs her tighter to his body, gently soothing her giggles to not escalate into full-on rambunctious laughter that will wake her sleeping, pretty mummy.

When Harry gently squeezes Molly’s hips, a reminder that he’s still waiting for an answer, Molly’s grinning eyes are trained at her father before answering in full honesty.

“Went downstairs to counted the days on the advent calendar before going to mummy and daddy’s room.”

“Darling.” Harry drawls, voice trying to sound exasperated but is overthrown by the feeling of endearment at his daughter’s antics. “What do I keep on reminding you about going down the stairs by yourself?”

Molly pouts, the words uttered by her father usually proceeds to him being cross with her. “Daddy, I promise I really went carefully down. I hold with my two hands the bars of the stairs, promise, daddy.”

“Did you really?” Harry exhales, eyes shining in admiration for his daughter’s innocent words of pure sincerity.

Molly nods her head enthusiastically, little chin digging on Harry’s skin almost uncomfortably. “Yes, I super promise, daddy.”

Instead of replacing her pout back to that of her saccharine smile, Molly’s bottom lip protruded even farther, green Bambi eyes rounding in a full wounded look which got Harry alert in mere seconds. But before he can fuss over his daughter and ask what’s wrong, Molly is grumbling on his chest.

“My tum-tum was telling me it was wanting food so I went down, daddy.”

Harry’s resulting laughter now deserves that earlier reprimand of his daughter to be quiet. How can he be blamed for letting out such an obnoxious noise when his daughter’s words are not far from the way Molly’s own mother would grumble to him. Sophia is highly notorious for getting close to tears when she’s hungry, there’s no doubt in Harry’s mind that Molly’s saddened pouting face right now would escalate to that level if he doesn’t give her something to eat real soon.

“Did you eat anything then, darling? To soothe your tum-tum’s hungry calls?”

Molly shakes her head glumly, “No. Never eat breakfast with no mummy or daddy, mummy and you said.”

Harry positively coos at his daughter’s sweet words, Sophia and him instilling in Molly at a young age the importance of a family eating together when all are in the same place. Whether it’s in the kitchen at their home, daddy’s kitchen at his tour bus, or mummy’s kitchen at her nail salon. It’s a testament to Molly’s strong-willed mind that always wants to explore how far her parents would let her do things on her own, by still valuing the words they tell her.

“Aw, poor baby.” Harry coos, lips dropping to kiss his daughter’s forehead behind her messy fringe. “Did my darling wake daddy up so she can have food for her tum-tum?”

Like the true toddler that she is, Molly’s earlier display of a saddened puppy instantly shifts to that of an excited puppy at the mere mention of her father being there to provide her with food. Due to another thing contrary to his daughter’s wishes of feeding herself, she actually can’t do that if she can’t even reach the top of the kitchen counter without using one of their wooden chairs to stand on.

“Yes please, daddy.” Molly politely replies, the dents on Harry’s cheeks digging even deeper at the way he’s beaming at his daughter.

“Okay.” Harry taps her cotton bottoms clad bum, “Go wait for me near the stairs while daddy needs to get dressed before he becomes your chef.”

Molly makes a conscious effort of covering her giggling lips with the palm of her small paws, Harry shaking his head, highly endeared at his daughter who has quickly slid away from his hold on her body. Harry only realizes that Molly is actually already dressed for the day in a warm toned jumper with a silver, sparkling collar and plain, cream trousers. Gone were her favorite Frosty the Snowman pyjama set that Harry had stressed over last night after his daughter started having a tantrum when Harry told her it was still in the wash. Thank god for dryers really!

Harry’s slight lamenting for all his efforts washed away just like that is interrupted by Molly’s excited form turning back at him before making her way out to wait near their stairs.

“Daddy,” Molly says in a loud whisper, “wear a jumper cause mummy said it’s going to be super coldest today.”

Harry chuckles lightly, “How cold did mummy say it was going to be today, darling?”

Molly wraps her small arms around her own form, acting like she was shivering, “The super coldest!”

If only Sophia and Harry weren’t against the idea of having their daughter star in ad campaigns at such a young age, Harry’s pretty sure Molly’s charisma and adorable acts would have garnered them a hefty paycheck, enough to have bought all her Christmas gifts this year.

“Well in that case, daddy should bundle-up and listen to mummy, huh? The same way you little miss should be listening to daddy’s instructions earlier. No food for the tum-tum if cuddlebug isn’t careful.”

That etches a serious aura on Molly’s face like a determined little puppy, “Cuddlebug would be careful, daddy.” she says in full determination before making a show of slowly walking out of her parents room. That leaves Harry giggling to himself while fetching his equally warm clothing in their closet.

Having learned how to dress up quickly not only for hectic tours and Gucci fashions shows, but that too of being freshly out the shower and your daughter is already wailing for your attention, Harry easily finishes getting ready for the day in just under five minutes. The man smiled approvingly at his daughter who was waiting patiently at one of the single couches in the upstairs living room area by the stairway, the couch big enough to look like it was swallowing her small form.

“Look who’s being a good girl early this morning.” Harry says, offering his hand for Molly to take. “Such a patient girl, princess. I think you’re definitely going to get your pressies from Santa tomorrow.”

Molly gives him a toothy smile, preening at her father’s words while accepting his help of getting down from the large single couch. “You think so, daddy?”

Harry easily picks up his toddler to carry down the stairs, the little girl’s one arm snaked behind his neck while the other rests on his cheek waiting for an answer with her green doe-like eyes exhibiting intense anticipation.

“Daddy really thinks so, princess. You’ve been really good and helpful to mummy while daddy was away so I’m sure that Father Christmas will know that too.”

“How he know?” Molly quirks a confused brow as Harry takes the two of them to their kitchen. “You talk to Santa, daddy?”

“Not really because I don’t need to. Santa sees everything, remember?” Harry says while carefully depositing Molly on the surface of the marbled kitchen counter.

Something in his last words spiked a current of sheer joy on Molly’s face, the latter quickly wobbling to stand on her feet on the kitchen counter allowing Harry to assist her excited frame as to not to fall on the floor and cause her father a heart attack.

Despite being Sophia’s daughter through and through, Molly is still Harry’s daughter as well. Greatly exemplified when said daughter suddenly begins singing a classic Christmas tune all animatedly, with her small body bopping this way and that.

“He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake!” Molly all but belts in her high-pitched voice, “He knows when you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake!”

There’s nothing that gets Harry the most than seeing his daughter singing her heart out, easily getting tranced to join along the fun as they sing the chorus together, Harry’s arms gently swaying along Molly’s in a little happy dance.

“So! You better watch out, you better not cry. You better not pout, I’m telling you why. Santa Clause is coming to town!”

The two finish in absolute flourish, Molly’s ear-piercing screech hitting the last note of the song perfectly in Harry’s opinion. They both dissolve into rambunctious laughter after their singing moment, Harry’s heart growing triple its size at how unbelievably amazing his daughter is.

Harry drops a kiss to Molly’s grinning cheek, “I think that wonderful singing has made my princess more hungry, huh? Don’t worry, daddy’s going to give you a smoothie first before I start baking our brekkie.”

Harry misses the pout that formed on his daughter’s lips, back already facing her while getting some lime and spinach in the fridge, only to be interrupted by his daughter’s whine.

“Daddy! No green stuffies, please!”

Harry faces his daughter with his mouth ajar, “What do you mean no green stuffies? You love daddy’s smoothies, love.”

Molly shakes her head furiously, “Nu-uh, green smoothies are yucky!”

Harry actually gasps at the disgusted face his daughter is sporting, “Since when did my smoothies become yucky to you?”

“Mummy said eewiee last time you maked us smoothies so I say eewiee too.” Molly replies like it was a no brainer and Harry’s amused to say the least.

He should have seen it coming with the way most things about his daughter are slowly unfolding to be like the traits of her mother every day that she grows-up. Sophia’s aversion to green vegetables and fruits were put into a hold after the two of them have discussed that it was important that Molly would learn to love healthy foods and drinks at an early age. Harry’s quite certain that Sophia didn’t mean for their daughter to hear her disgusted comment about his smoothie since she’s been the best mother by being a good example to Molly and gulping her own pains away with Harry’s green smoothies every time he makes them.

But of course, their daughter had to be an attentive one and all Sophia’s efforts are put to waste at their daughter’s incessant look of displeasure after seeing Harry holding the green ingredients this morning.

“Don’t wanna green stuffies, daddy.” Molly pouts further, “Tum-tum don’t likey.”

Harry sighs, “What are you going to eat then, darling? Daddy’s still going to bake our brekkie and that would take awhile.”

Molly’s grin springs back to her face in an instant, it’s tone far too devious for a toddler which makes Harry quite apprehensive of what she’s about to say.

“May I please go to the pantry and I find snacks to eat while you bake brekkie, daddy?”

Molly asks the question so innocently, Harry not seeing the harm of agreeing especially with how polite she had asked for his permission.

“Alright.” Harry relents, acting exasperated at his daughter’s cheerful face. “You may go to the pantry and pick a snack. But please, pick something healthy, love. And please eat it at the dining table where I can see you, okay?”

His daughter nods her head enthusiastically, “Yes, daddy.” puckering her lips to land a kiss on Harry’s chin before quickly asking for help to be brought down to the floor.

Harry shakes his head in amusement once again as he easily carries Molly’s lithe body from the kitchen counter down to the heated floors, the little girl scurrying away to the door of their pantry before Harry can even tell her to be careful with her steps.

Like her mother, Molly has grown-up to love snacking at any moment the hunger for it strikes. Being the independent bee that she is, Sophia had decided it was only wise to get Harry to make their daughter a stepping stool that can be used for the pantry so that the little girl could go and get her snacks by herself after informing the two of them where she’s going.

Harry had been hesitant of the idea at first, scary thoughts of his baby girl loosing her footing on the stepping stool and falling on the ground without them near had plagued his mind. Those negative thoughts were quickly diminished when Sophia had ordered online a kit for the stepping stool, Molly’s eager aurora excitedly asking her father to assemble it for her, small hand not only tugging on his bigger palm but that too of his heart strings, was enough to get him to agree.

And now he isn’t regretting the decision. Harry makes the most out of the silent reprieve his daughter has given him by getting the dough that he chilled last night together with some butter, sugar, and flour from the cupboards all for the cinnamon rolls he’s going to be baking for their Christmas Eve breakfast.

Harry’s sweet tooth of a wife had actually been the one that had requested for this specific dish, and who was Harry to deny her kind wish when it was the season of giving after all. Besides, Sophia deserves some doting love from him after being the best mum in the world this past year with him being away from tour, or with Sophia being also his mum on tour when they were in the city where Harry was set to perform.

Harry wants to make this a special and delicious breakfast for his wife and daughter that he actually doesn’t notice what Molly is eating, just content seeing the flurry of her crazy-messy hair as she busies herself in the dining table while Harry begins to roll out the dough he proofed last night.

After rolling out the dough to be thin and wide enough for his liking, Harry’s focus was shifted to making sure he’s brushing equal amounts of butter on every surface of the dough as well as the brown sugar and cinnamon mixture he’s sprinkling is also of equal parts.

Too focused on the art of baking for his girls, Harry does not notice his wife coming down the stairs in all her sleep-rumpled glory, all cozily dressed-up and warm for the winter weather.

“Mind if I join the two of you here?” Sophia’s sweet voice breaks Harry’s engrossed state as he watches his wife almost glide to the kitchen towards them. Such a graceful creature that one.

It should have been a tell-tale sign when Molly didn’t even acknowledge the presence of her mother despite always worshiping the floor she walks on, wanting to be Sophia’s little version every single day. But one thing the married couple has learned after having their first child, is to value every second of child-less time that God gives them. So can you really blame the two when they went straight to each other in a tight embrace, lips locking in a sweet morning kiss.

“Good morning, my sunflower.” Harry dimples at his smiling wife, “I’d really want to cradle your face and kiss you so tenderly but my hands are sticky with sugar and cinnamon.”

Sophia coos at Harry’s pout, “It’s okay bunny, I’d just be the one to hold your face and kiss you good morning so tenderly.” Cupping Harry’s giggling face on the small of her palm, Sophia raises on her tiptoes to entangle their lips together in a loving kiss.

“Mummy! My kissies too!”

And that’s why you grab every opportunity you have to be able to snog your wife peacefully.

Harry and Sophia both sighed in each other's lips, more endeared than exasperated really, just like for everything else their daughter does.

Sophia turns her head towards Molly at the dining table, “Of course, my love. How can mummy forget my kissies for you?”

Their daughter shrugs, infamous pout forming once again, “I don’t know. Mummy should not forgetting to share daddy’s kissie with me too.”

Both Harry and Sophia let out surprise laughter at Molly’s clear admission of childish jealousy regarding Harry’s kisses. He should have known that a jealous mother would also mean a jealous daughter. Come to think of it, it’s not the first time Molly has interrupted their holiday smooches, only this time there weren’t any tiny hands pushing their heads away from each other.

“Oh, how unkind of mummy for not sharing daddy’s kissies with you, baby?” Sophia humors their daughter. “Why don’t you come here with us darling and give daddy amazing kisses and I go fix your messy hair while you’re at it with your father’s affection.”

Molly smiles, adorable baby teeth showing. And that’s when they see it.

“Molly!” Harry gasps together with Sophia, “What have you been eating, young lady?”

Molly shuts her toothy grin in an instant, features flushing in muted pink at being caught. She doesn’t reply to her father, so Harry has no choice but to follow his wife whose hand he’s holding, drags him to the dining table.

“What is this?” Sophia asks, gesturing incredulously at the plate of ‘snacks’ Molly had chosen from the pantry.

One of Sophia’s dainty white and gold plate sets that’s perfectly arranged for tonight’s roast dinner, is filled with mini Lindt chocolate bears, its classic gold wrapper with the touches of red, blue, and green all fit for the holiday outfits the adorable bears are wearing.

Seeing that her parents are more fond rather than cross (unfortunately) at her, Molly doesn’t cower away in the fear of getting scolded and instead gives her parents another toothy grin, evidence of her early sweet treat visible.

“They’re choccys, mummy.” Molly answers, so angelic-like it makes Harry believe Sophia and him are doomed when Molly becomes a teenager and get away with every single devious thing she’ll do because her parents are utter suckers for her precious face.

“I can see that they are choccys, darling.” Sophia confirms, head turning to Harry with a curved brow. “Now I don’t understand why your daddy let you eat some this early.”

Harry’s brows furrow, bottom lip sticking out just a little bit because it feels like the scolding will be directed at him unlawfully. “Sunflower, I told our little princess to get a healthy snack. Didn’t I, love?”

Molly might charm her way to get past her cheeky antics but one thing that she can’t do is lie straight to her parent’s faces, another thing she’s inherited from Sophia who can’t lie (even for a surprise for her husband) for the life of her. That trait goes in favor for Harry most of the time, easily getting the answers from Sophia when it’s date night and she had planned for them a surprise. Sophia can’t even last a whole five minutes in their ride and she’s already spilling the beans to Harry.

“Yes.” Molly pouts, nodding her head dejectedly. “Daddy said healthy snack before brekkie but I gotten choccys instead, sorry mummy and daddy.”

Molly makes grabby hands for either of her parents to pick her up, Sophia being the nearest one extending her arm to raise her daughter up and hold her tights to her chest. Molly quickly presses her soft baby lips on her mother’s in a kiss filled with apology, little head tilting at the side to reach for her father with her lips remained pursed. Harry coos, bending a little to meet his daughter half-way through, Molly smacking an equally apologetic kiss to his lips.

“It’s alright baby,” Harry promises quietly, “You’re forgiven, mummy and daddy aren’t cross with you.”

Sophia hums the same sentiment, giving her daughter a soft smile, “Daddy’s right, we’re not going to get mad at you if you’re so kind for being honest and apologizing right away. Look who’s in the nice list of Father Christmas?”

That brings the grin on Molly’s face back, giggling almost bashfully at her mother’s praise. “Sure mummy? Santa didn’t putted me in the naughty list cause I eated choccys for brekkie snack?”

“Yes, mummy’s sure baby. Remember, Santa has eyes everywhere, yeah?”

Both Harry and Molly lock gazes at that, mirth swimming in their green irises causing a frown of wary to etch on Sophia’s face.

“Uh-oh, why are you two looking at each other like that?”

Instead of replying, the father and daughter turned into the amazing singing duo that they are, breaking into the same Christmas song number from earlier. This time around, they’ve placed Sophia in the middle of their little dance routine, Harry and Molly showing Sophia how to properly shimmy her shoulders and bop her bum and hips like they’re back on tour once again.

It doesn't take long before Sophia and Molly tap out from tiredness, Harry giggles on his hands at the rather adorable flushed faces of his girls, bodies bent with their hands placed on their respective knees catching their breath like they’ve just ran a marathon. It’s yet another trait Molly got from her mother, getting easily physically exhausted and then pouting up at Harry asking for ‘cool down cuddles’.

On any regular day, Harry would have instantly jumped at the opportunity of getting to smother his two tired girls in his snuggles. But today’s Christmas Eve, he’s not going to let them have shitty breakfast just because they’re all too clingy and need attention, that’s really the bottomline of it, isn’t it?

Hence, Harry musters the bravest face he can make, one that can resist the double-trouble of his wife and daughter’s identical puppy eyes and pleading pouts (a hundred times more fucking difficult than anyone can ever imagine), asking Sophia to help Molly freshen-up and erase any traces of chocolate on her face. Despite Sophia’s resistance, she agrees minutes later upon remembering the bird nest state of her daughter’s hair, and the promise of freshly baked cinnamon rolls once they arrive back.

Harry promptly returns to work once Molly and Sophia have left hand-in-hand up the staircase once more.

One who absolutely loves cooking for his girls, Harry expertly cuts and rolls the cinnamon buns and is placed perfectly in a large baking dish in no time. It still does have to be baked though, so Sophia and Molly arrive back in the kitchen with the growing aromas of sugar mixed with spicy notes from the cinnamon, inhibiting the entire room.

“Oohh, smells yummy.” Sophia observes, nose visibly raising in attention to waft the heavenly scent.

Molly, who’s in her mother’s arms with her hair fixed into little adorable spacebuns, copies her mother with ease, eyes closing all lovely, “Oohh, smells yummy!”

The two adults share a laugh at their daughter’s undeniable cuteness, amusement unceasing when the cinnamon rolls have baked with Molly physically sitting on her own tiny hands to prevent from taking a bite of her own roll after Harry had served them with it at the dining table. Both Sophia and Harry have told their daughter about five times (in the span of two minutes) not to eat it yet for it’s still piping hot after being taken out fresh from their oven.

Harry would like to think that as much as Sophia is on his side for their daughter’s safety, he’s pretty sure Sophia is also at the edge of her seat, waiting for the go signal from Harry when it’s already alright to eat their sweet breakfast without anyone burning their tongues.

After all, the two do love their sweet food. Harry shares the same observation at the table once Sophia and Molly have dived straight into their own cinnamon rolls, forgetting about knives and forks unlike Harry.

“I mean, I like sweet food.” Sophia answers Harry's comment, “But I don’t know if I love it, per say.” and then proceeds to lick her fingers clean from the sugary icing Harry had poured earlier.

Harry raises an incredulous eyebrow at that, Sophia huffing with an eye-roll at her husband’s smirk.

“Okay, I love sweet food then,” Sophia relents, “but I don’t like sweet breakfast all the time. Like, I also want some savory food in the morning on some days.”

Harry snorts, “Since when? I’m pretty sure our baby girl was eating chocolate bears earlier because she got that from you, like all things really.” and he gives Sophia his own set of eye-rolls, the underneath tone of bitterness in his voice is not lost in Sophia’s ears.

Sophia cackles, “That’s so not true.”

At the same time, Molly perks-up after hearing the magical word, “Choccy bears?” she asks in excitement, mouth messy with white icing and crumbs of sugar and cinnamon making the spouses giggle at their daughter’s messy nature.

Harry reaches forward to wipe his daughter clean, chuckling when Molly cranes her little neck to catch Harry’s thumb on her mouth to eat the sweet mess. Honestly, if anyone didn’t know any better, they’d probably think Harry is starving his daughter from the way she absolutely lights up after savoring those little granules of sweet food.

“Yeah, choccy bears,” Harry muses with a grin at his daughter, “darling, don’t you just love choccy bears cause mummy loves choccy bears?”

That makes Molly beam, all toothy and sticky hands clapping in glee, “Yes! Mummy loves choccy bears so I maded sure I love it too!”

The smug look Harry offers Sophia after that, is enough to convey the ‘I told you so!’ without needing to say it verbally. Sophia just pouts at her husband, brows meeting in the middle.

“Well mummy has a sweet tooth, so what can she do?” Sophia shrugs before turning to give Harry a fleeting look, baby blues looking too devious for Harry’s liking which all of a sudden disappears to give Molly an excited beam.

“But good thing daddy does quite well with helping us with our sweet cravings, yeah princess?”

Molly nods eagerly at her mother before turning to Harry with a lovely smile, “Yup! Daddy loves giving mummy and Molly with sweet treats, love daddy a bunch for gotted us choccy food all the time!”

Harry just absolutely preens at his daughter’s love-oozing words, “Aww, I love you too, princess. There isn’t anything daddy won’t do to get you and mummy what you like.”

“That’s why we love you,” Sophia says, devious baby blues back on a locked gaze with Harry’s own curious ones, “Always doing your best to give what Molly and I want or need. It’s a good thing you’re also down to help Molly make gingerbread cookies later because we’ve been craving for some since the start of the month.”

Molly actually screeches on her seat at the mention of that, fisted hands banging on the table ardently. “YES! Daddy and I bake gingerbread men NOW!”

In turn, Harry actually groans on his seat with Sophia cackling in laughter and Molly continually exclaiming the need for Harry and her to start baking already, the toddler far too keen already after talking Harry’s ear off about baking gingerbread cookies together ever since last night. And yes, it’s mainly the reason why his daughter didn’t want to have her kip last night.

This lot mainly stemmed from Sophia’s love for watching the Hallmark Christmas movies once the start of the holiday season has arrived from around the corner. Molly, being the studious girl that she is in wanting to be the best mini version of her mother, had also taken a liking to these films as mother and daughter tandem made a routine of watching a film or two a day to get their Christmas spirits going.

Most of the Hallmark films that Sophia has taped in their telly, revolved around some sort of Christmas baking with a love story entangled in it in some cheesy way. Molly, being a child who doesn’t really care about kissing under the mistletoe or awkward fumbling in the skate rink that turns to cliché falling on the ice and accidentally kissing, has focused her keen attention on all the baking of sweet treats in the movies.

As much as Harry is thankful that his daughter is not yet at the age of thinking that any boy would be much suited at taking care and loving her compared to her father, Harry is also placed in an unfavorable position after his daughter had pleaded with him that they too bake in the holidays like those people in the films.

Sophia’s a decent cook but she’s absolute crap in the field of baking, so it was clever of their daughter to direct her widened eyes and fluttering lashes at her daddy who on a normal day can’t resist giving in to that look.

What happens when it’s given to him during Christmas time?

Harry absolutely stumbles on his feet to teach his daughter how to make gingerbread cookies, that’s what happens.

That statement is also conveyed in literal terms, like Harry is literally stumbling on his own two feet from the amount of flour his daughter is placing in their dry ingredients bowl, so much that it’s also spilling on the kitchen floor causing Harry’s clumsiness to come into action.

“Alright, I think that’s enough, baby.” Harry says, hands coming up to wave off the puffs of flour floating in the air. He stands closer to his daughter who’s standing securely on one of their dining chairs, head raised to look at Harry in clear concentration, an extremely adorable look that Harry can’t help but giggle at.

“What’s next, daddy?” Molly eagerly asks.

“Now we have to add the remaining dry ingredients, like the salt, baking soda, and all our spices.”

To prevent more spillage, Harry takes it upon himself to tell Molly to wait (a hardship on its own that would take a lot of time to share how) while he measures into little cups all the other dry ingredients so all that his messy daughter gotta do is to dump its contents on their big bowl in an easy, and way cleaner manner.

Harry learns quite quickly that there’s nothing easy with teaching a toddler how to bake. Molly’s pudgy tiny fingers dipping on every measured cup, tongue poking out in disgust after having a taste of pure powdered cinnamon, clove, all spice, and ginger, all of which Harry had told her not to put directly in her mouth.

“That’s so yucky!” Molly grumbles, “Why we putted that in our gingerbread men, daddy?”

Harry shakes his head at his daughter’s cluelessness, filling a glass of water for Molly to drink to wash out the unpleasant symphony of spices in her pink tongue. Harry finds her amusing because he’ll never forget how Sophia did the exact same thing, and asked the exact same questions when they first baked gingerbread cookies together way back when their daughter wasn’t even born yet. Harry just hopes that Molly has a far better future in the baking scene than her mother.

“It won’t taste horrible later, princess, I promise.” Harry replies, accepting the empty glass from his daughter’s careful hands. “It just doesn’t taste good right now because it’s not cooked yet. Once it’s all mixed with our wet ingredients, we’ve rolled the dough and cut our gingerbread men, it’s going to taste really yummy once it’s done baking in the oven.”

His daughter only hums in acknowledgement at that, her attention span of being a toddler is quickly transferred to the pink KitchenAid mixer that Harry has just placed in the kitchen counter.

“I like the color pink.” Molly points out the electronic mixer.

“Why’s that?” Harry humors her despite knowing the answer just like he knows the sun will come down later and it will rise again tomorrow.

“Because mummy likes pink, so I like pink too.”

And how can Harry forget about that? His bloody nails are painted pink right now because Sophia seems to have a collection of all the shades of pink found in the spectrum of colors in the form of nail polishes. At the same time, he still lets out a shudder from the pointed glares that Sophia had given him for all the red outfits he wore at tour.

Harry proceeds to slowly instruct Molly about the wet ingredients that she needs to pour in a separate bowl. This time, he doesn’t bother warning Molly not to taste the sugar or molasses, but does place a foot forward when his daughter all out gobbles a cube of butter, buttery fingers trying to reach for another one which Harry intercepts easily.

“No more butter for you, missy.” Harry chuckles at Molly’s disgruntled face, traces of butter smeared on her lips, “Or we won’t have any cookies if your tum-tum eats them all.” Harry then tickles her pudgy stomach causing Molly to shriek in laughter.

In no time, Harry’s strong arms are guiding Molly’s smaller ones in combining both the dry ingredients with the wet ones, Molly’s fascinated eyes trained on the whirling motion of the mixer as it combines all the components of the gingerbread cookie into a warm brown colored dough.

“Wow.” Molly awes as Harry scoops the dough from the bowl, molding it a bit with his practiced hands before wrapping it in clingwrap.

“That’s cool, huh?” Harry dimples at his engrossed daughter. “Now we just have to wait and put it in the fridge to chill for an hour.”

His daughter’s enchanted expression of seeing their creation turn into a dough for her gingerbread men is quickly replaced by a petulant pout.

“Why?” Molly asks in a tone of pure protest, “Why put in the fridge, daddy? I thought we going to maded it now?”

Harry, having the sixth sense for a Christmas-obsessed toddler tantrum, makes his way to the fridge and swaps the dough they just made to one that he made from last night.

“Ta-da!” Harry showcases the chilled dough to his daughter animatedly, the green eyed girl covering her mouth in a gasp of surprise.

“Oh my.” Molly mutters when Harry begins to sprinkle the surface of the kitchen counter with flour, rolling out the batch of dough he prepared last night.

“Amazing right? I knew your little impatient bum couldn’t wait to get your gingerbread men assembled.”

Molly doesn’t reply from her father’s rib at her character. Either because she’s a child who can’t detect teasing that well, or because she’s precisely like her mummy who doesn’t take a damn from Harry whenever he calls out Sophia’s own impatient whining. Harry has his bets on the latter option of why Molly just ignores his words in favor of excitedly arranging the assortment of gingerbread man cookie cutters he bought specifically for her as an early Christmas present.

“Alright,” Harry claps his hands free from any excess flour after successfully rolling out the dough in the perfect thinness he was hoping to achieve, “daddy is going to show you how to cut out one gingerbread man, and you princess can do the rest after.”

Molly wordlessly hands Harry one of the cookie cutters, eyes glued solely on the slow motions of her daddy’s hands as he flours the cookie cutter before placing it in the dough.

“Now you have to press it hard, like this.” Harry tells her, pushing on his palms quite exaggeratedly with his face frowning in the faux strenuous activity just to hear his daughter’s amused giggles. “No giggling here darling. You have to put all your big girl strength in cutting these cookies or else there won’t be any cookies to eat.”

“No way!” Molly protests easily, “Have to get the gingerbread men cutted cause it looks so good in the telly that mummy and I watch.”

“Well here you go then,” Harry says, offering the jar of flour for Molly to take some for her cookie cutters, “cut away, my fine baking apprentice!”

Once again, Molly doesn’t pay attention to anything he said, just proceeds to copy her father’s earlier actions, little tongue poking out all cute in concentration as she presses hard on the cookie cutter to make sure it makes a dent on the dough.

Harry watches the scene unfold with unbridled pride blooming in his chest, attention lasered on every minute changes in Molly’s features that the second a small frown begins to form on her forehead, Harry is straightaway ready to ask what’s wrong.

“Why the gingerbread men have no heart, daddy?” Molly replies with a frown.

The question catches Harry off-guard. “What do you mean, darling?”

Molly sighs, “A heart, daddy!” she exclaims like Harry doesn’t know his basic anatomy. “Mummy said every living creature on earth has gotted a heart. That’s why we have to be kind to everyone even if they are meanies cause they also have heart and I can’t breaked other’s heart, daddy. Have to be kind, always, mummy and you said.”

Harry and Sophia have properly taught their daughter the vital importance of being kind in this world no matter the circumstance. What they should probably think of teaching Molly is how to not go melting people’s hearts from how wonderful and precious she is!

“So you also want to give your gingerbread men a heart, baby?” Harry coos, eyes probably formed into its own heart slits.

Molly nods, pink lips curved upwards, “Yes, daddy! Heart for my gingerbread men too cause people have gotted to be kind with them, too.”

Harry’s endeared to say the least, needing no other prompt to get their heart shaped cookie cutters for his daughter to use. “And we can’t go having people being mean with your gingerbread men cookies, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Molly affirms brightly, hands planting themselves on her hips with her eyes narrowing. “Don’t like meanies hurting my gingerbread men, but I still be kind if they do cause mummy said I be the bigger person.”

Harry tries to cover the laugh trying to escape from his mouth at the look of utter danger in his daughter’s green pools. “And you are the bigger person, princess. Look at you, you’re almost as tall as daddy!”

Harry’s poor attempt at joking results in an unimpressed pout on Molly’s lips, whining, “Daddy! That’s not funny.”

Harry wants to feel offended at Molly’s unpleasant words against his humor if only he didn’t know already that once again, his daughter takes on her mother for not being quite fond of Harry’s love to jest around. Oftentimes, the two girls are the first to groan at Harry’s dad jokes every time there’s company at home to entertain. Harry could say he might be annoyed, but he really isn’t when he knows deep down, Sophia and Molly would not have him in any other way despite their matching contempt every time he says, ‘knock, knock..’

The pair return to cutting their gingerbread cookies, Harry helping Molly to get the heart cookie cutter in the middle of each gingerbread man. Harry even made sure that the heart cookie cutters they’re using are all of the same size since Molly had given him a stink eye when he said some of them might be smaller than others.

“Daddy! All have same big heart, no small hearts!”

Harry prefers not to get berated by a toddler with a lot of sugar in her system, so he just follows along as he gently transfers each perfectly cut gingerbread man - with BIG hearts - on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.

Molly knows that neither of her parents allow her to be anywhere near any heat source which enables her to not start-up a fight when Harry proceeds to put the baking sheet in the pre-heated oven by himself.

“Want to go watch with mummy in the living room while daddy cleans up here?” Harry bends down to his daughter’s level to ask.

Molly shakes her head. “No. I have to help daddy to cleaned the messy in the kitchen.”

“Of course,” Harry smiles with a knowing glint in his eyes, “Mummy doesn’t like messy too, huh?”

Molly nods her head this time, a little smirk forming on her lips that makes Harry shiver internally on how in the world can she already look this devious when she wants to be at such a young age.

“Yeah, mummy doesn’t like messy.” Molly repeats, shaking her head. “That’s why mummy doesn’t like your studio, daddy!”

“Heyy..” Harry pouts at his giggling daughter of a traitor who’s exposing the current disarray state of his at-home studio, “That’s not true, love. It’s only messy right now because I let you color your Frosty the Snowman and Santa books there while I’m recording my songs for the new album.”

“Not true!” Molly declares, “Daddy’s studio is always messy!”

His little three-year-old should have thought better before saying that.

If she did, Harry would not be chasing her around in their messy kitchen with the promise of tickling her until she laughs so loudly like Father Christmas. It’s no surprise though that Harry catches Molly in his arms not even a full five minutes later, the child flushed tired in his arms once more making Harry embody the Christmas spirit of peace and decides not to go ahead with his tickling spree.

They’re in the middle of actually cleaning the kitchen counter when Molly does catch Harry in surprise.

Harry was now sitting on the chair Molly was using earlier as a stepping stool to reach the top of the kitchen counter, his daughter sitting comfortably on his lap, face nuzzled into the warmth of his neck, Harry’s own arms wrapped around Molly’s little frame hugging her tight in his embrace.

“Daddy?” Molly whispers into the skin of where his shoulder meets his neck.

“Hm?” Harry hums, hands gently running up and down Molly’s spine in an act to relax his surely tired daughter from all their baking and running about.

“May I please give mummy the first piece of our gingerbread men cookies that we maked? I love mummy a bunch of tons so I want her to gotted the first one.”

Molly Styles might be the exact replica of Sophia from the top of her head until the ends of her tiptoes, personalities and traits might also be a carbon copy despite her young age.

But one thing that Harry is dead-on sure that Molly got from him, is something so special that he doesn’t give a fuck if it’s the only thing his daughter got from his gene (the green eyes too, thanks).

Molly loves her mummy just the same as Harry loves his wife.

They give Sophia the same love, care and adoration that she deserves, Harry’s definitely happy to know and that it’s something he’s proud to say Molly got from him.

Molly wants to give Sophia the first piece of the gingerbread cookies Harry and her made just the same as Harry would make sure his wife gets the first serving of food in any Christmas party held under his honor.

Molly would wait patiently for her mummy’s reaction upon taking the first bite of the holiday cookie just like Harry who waited for Sophia’s reaction to the Christmas ornaments he got from every state he visited in the US during his last tour. Both father and daughter need that smile of approval from the woman they love to function properly afterwards.

Despite being a lover of sweet treats herself, Molly would only give half of her attention on the gingerbread cookie she’s eating, the remaining half is trained on her mother, waiting if she needs a drink before ordering her daddy to make mummy her special Christmas hot cocoa with extra marshmallows at the top.

Similarly, Harry would only give his favorite Christmas film ‘Love Actually’ half of his mind while the rest is focused on his wife who’s decorating their home all festive and cozy for Christmas time, always on high alert if she needs a hand on something.

After having enough taste on the gingerbread cookies, Molly would gladly cuddle her mummy in her small but insanely powerfully huggable arms, knowing full well how much Sophia loves a good warm snuggle with every food coma she nurses. Sophia’s tired state from last night had also garnered similar results, Harry welcoming his tired wife from all the gift wrapping she had done, her entire body going pliant in Harry’s strong hold as he oozes all the love and appreciation he has for her in that simple body contact.

The Christmas-obsessed Molly would even disregard all the fun holiday activities she has in mind just to show her mummy how much she loves spending time with her and doing barely anything. The little girl would no doubt agree to Sophia’s request of cuddling all day of Christmas Eve in the couch watching more Hallmark Christmas films or the Grinch once Harry gets bored of all the soppiness.

In the same regard, Harry would gladly politely decline any offers his friends have to join them for some Christmas party at some high-class pub or even a shopping trip to a fancy Christmas market, all in favor of joining Molly in loving up Sophia with her favorite hugs and kisses.

Harry and Molly’s love for the woman truly has no bounds, would happily do the same thing again come dinner time with Molly letting her mummy have the first bite of the Christmas roast, attentive eyes waiting for the signal to get her daddy to make mummy the ‘Christmas special drink for mummy and daddy only’ aka: mulled wine.

Harry wouldn’t even mind if that was the case, he’ll most likely even volunteer to start the cuddle fest himself after their Christmas Eve dinner. Arms wide open for his girls with Molly helping him make sure mummy is snuggled tightly with the thick, knitted blanket they got from Nanny Anne. It wouldn’t be a secret if the two indulge Sophia with another Christmas movie at night time, maybe one of the Princess Switch movies or Elf once Harry gets confused on why there are two Vanessa Hudgens that suddenly turn into three come the next movies.

All in all, when Christmas morning comes, Harry is confident that Molly and him love Sophia wholly and just the same by letting her have the first go at the pressies under their fabulously decorated Christmas tree.

Never mind the fact that Molly is a three-year-old toddler who’s been waiting for Santa’s gifts ever since the start of the ber-months, or that Harry is a 27-year old man who still outshines her daughter by opening more gifts than her in under a minute because he’s definitely still very much in-touch with his inner child once the holiday season strikes.

All of those Harry and Molly can disregard and throw the notion outside the door and into the snowing England pavements.

All in the name of their shared love and gratitude for Sophia.

“Yes.” Harry simply replies to his daughter, the two’s features slowly brewing in identical grins despite their clear differences in looks. “We can give mummy anything we want this Christmas Eve because we love her.”

“YES!” Molly cheers far too brightly for something so simple and so innate to them, “We love on mummy on Christmas Eve!”

And pretty much any other day of any other week of any other fucking year, they’d love on Sophia as much as they want.

This Christmas Eve is no exception.