Stop it! I burst out laughing. Harry was cracking me up with his lame jokes, doing his best to amuse me.

I had woken up in the middle of the night with my head resting on his lap, his hand absentmindedly caressing my back, both of us wrapped in the shared warmth of the blanket. He was watching TV, and I felt guilty that he had lost sleep because of me. Sensing my unease, he had immediately started making ridiculous Sleeping Beauty jokes, which had me in hysterics.

"Just one more," he said, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Nooooo, please!" I begged, pushing him away. I had this annoying habit of shoving people whenever I laughed uncontrollably, and this time was no different.

"There were two snakes," he began, trying to keep a straight face.

"Yeah?" I wiped at the corner of my eye, trying to contain my giggles.

"One asks the other, 'Are we poisonous?' The second one says, 'Why?' And the first snake replies, 'Because I just bit my tongue.'"

I groaned. "Oh my God, that is so lame!" I collapsed into another fit of laughter, pushing him again.

"You're laughing, missy... stop shoving me!" he huffed in mock annoyance, which only made me laugh harder.

"Oh, Harry, you're such a dork!" I grinned at him, shaking my head.

His own smile widened as he chuckled, "Thank you so much."

"For what?"

"For everything. For being here, for listening to my shitty story, and..." I paused for effect, lowering my voice dramatically, "for forgiving me for what I'm about to do."

Harry blinked at me, caught off guard. His body tensed slightly as I placed a palm lightly over his chest, my fingers grazing the fabric of his hoodie. His breath hitched as I leaned in just a fraction closer, my gaze locking onto his.

And then, just as fast, I yanked the blanket off him, wrapped it around myself, and bolted for the bathroom.

"You little shit!" he called after me, his laughter following me down the hallway.

"Sorry! I gotta pee, and I'm cold!" I shouted back, grinning.

By the time I returned, he was sitting on the couch, pouting like a child who just had his toy stolen. The fire flickered warmly in the background, casting shadows across his face, highlighting the playfulness in his expression.

I paused for a moment, just watching him. This wasn't the bartender dripping with sex appeal, the one who had women lining up just for a second of his attention. This wasn't the guy rumoured to be sleeping his way up the ladder. This wasn't the cocky model who knew the power he held over others.

Right now, he just looked like a normal guy. A boy in sweatpants, teasing a friend, laughing at dumb jokes.

And I liked this version of him so much better.

"Shhh," he suddenly hushed, his finger pressed to his lips. He grabbed my hand and led me toward the hallway, tiptoeing like we were characters in a Saturday morning cartoon.

"What is it?" I whispered, giggling.

"Shhh! Listen." He pointed at Jimmy's bedroom door, eyes twinkling with mischief.

At first, I didn't hear anything. But then—moans. Breathless, heavy panting.

"Oh God." My eyes widened in horror as Anne's voice echoed through the silence.

"This is so hot," she gasped. "I'm hot. I'm burning up. I'm burning up. I'm burning up!"

Harry and I clamped our hands over our mouths, struggling to hold back our laughter. My entire face burned as I smacked his arm, urging him back toward the living room.

"Oh my God, that was mortifying," I hissed, flopping onto the couch, still breathless from laughing.

Harry was grinning from ear to ear. "People say the stupidest things during sex."

"Do you?" The question slipped out before I could stop myself.

His smirk deepened. "I mean, I like some dirty talk, sure. But I don't think I say dumb shit like 'I'm burning up.'"

I groaned, covering my face. "I can't believe you're making me talk about this!"

"Come on, tell me?" he prodded, shifting so he was facing me fully.

"Not a chance in hell, Styles," I mumbled through my hands.

"Then I guess I'll just have to find out." He raised a teasing eyebrow.

I shot him a warning glare. "Not in this lifetime."

"Shame," he mused, looking all too entertained.

Needing to change the subject—and fast—I blurted out, "Does Charlie say odd stuff? She seems pretty vocal, from what I remember."

Harry froze. Just for a second.

The playful glint in his eye dimmed, but he recovered quickly, leaning back on the couch. "Come here. It's cold. Warm me up."

He lifted his arm, gesturing for me to nestle into his side, and despite everything, I did.

"Why are you with her?" The words left my mouth before I could stop them.

His fingers traced absent patterns along my shoulder. "It's complicated."

"There are so many women who would throw themselves at you. Is it really about the..." I hesitated. The Manhunt competition. The money. The sponsorship. I wanted to ask but held back. It wasn't my place.

"I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

"I don't want to go back to work," he admitted after a moment. "Or back to the city, for that matter."

"Me neither." I sighed, resting my head against his chest.

We sat like that, watching TV in silence, until the door creaked open and Jimmy shuffled into the kitchen, his hair a complete mess and his shirt inside out.

"What the fuck? You're still up?" he grumbled, digging through the fridge.

Harry smirked. "Yeah. Couldn't sleep. We're watching TV."

Jimmy grabbed the milk carton which was almost empty and downed it, clearly exhausted, and was about to head back to his room when Harry called after him.

"Hey, Jimmy?"

"What?" Jimmy grumbled.

"Get Anne some water."

Jimmy frowned. "Why?"

Harry barely held back his laughter. "Because she's burning up."

I gasped, shoving Harry's shoulder. Jimmy's face turned the faintest shade of red before he flipped Harry off and disappeared into his room.

"Shut up, Harry." I threw the blanket over his head.

"I will die under here!" he muffled dramatically, tickling my side.

I yelped, trying to push him off. "Will you behave?"

"Yeah, yeah," he chuckled, his head peeking out, emerald eyes gleaming with mischief.

And in that moment, I realized—I was going to miss this. Because as soon as we got back to the city, everything would change.

And that scared me more than I wanted to admit.

"So, what's your story?" I asked, tilting my head slightly.

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, tell me about yourself. Or would you rather go to your room to sleep?" he smirked at my question.

"I would rather go to your room to sleep but—" he paused dramatically.

"Harryyyy," I warned.

"Ed snores. There, I said it." He threw his hands up. "Did you think I meant—? No, no, no. Innocent little me? Never." His mock innocence was so ridiculous I couldn't help but laugh.

"Actually, you can come," I decided. Anne was in Jimmy's room, so her bed was free. It made sense. No snoring, more talking. A win-win.

He smirked again, clearly pleased, and soon we were lying opposite each other, each hugging a pillow, me in my bed and Harry in Anne's with a bedside table with a lamp on it between the two beds . After a moment, Harry suddenly sat up and moved the lamp onto the floor.

I furrowed my brows. "What are you doing?"

"I couldn't see your lovely face," he said smoothly, dimples deepening as he grinned.

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips. "God, Harry, do these lines actually work for you?"

"I don't need lines, sugar," he said, cocky as ever.

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah." He winked.

"Modesty is your finest trait, babe."

"Babe?" His grin widened.

"Kidding. Tell me about you, Harry," I said, shifting onto my side, genuinely curious.

He shrugged. "There isn't much to say. I have a sister. My folks are good people. I grew up in a loving home. When I was sixteen, I was sort of discovered. Some photographer saw me playing football with Jimmy and some guys, and next thing I knew, I was modelling. Then bartending happened. Sylvia was already a big name at the club, and she kinda took me under her wing."

"I thought you two were a couple at first," I admitted.

His brows lifted in amusement. "Why?"

I shrugged. "The little routine you do behind the bar. The grabbing, the kissing..."

He laughed. "Let me tell you something, sugar. Sylvia would be much more interested in kissing you than me."

I blinked, caught off guard. "Oh. I didn't know."

"Not a lot of people do. She doesn't advertise it. Says who you love or sleep with shouldn't define how people perceive you."

"She's right," I murmured, letting my eyes flutter closed for a few seconds.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire filling the space.

"Goodnight, beautiful," he whispered, switching off the lamp.

"Goodnight, handsome," I mumbled back, already feeling sleep tugging me under.

We spent most of the next day sleeping, only getting up when the others had already gone out. After breakfast, we showered, played board games (no stripping this time, much to Harry's disappointment), and enjoyed the last bit of peace before heading back to reality.

The next morning, we packed up early. Everyone pitched in, and soon enough, we were on the road. Ed, Tom, and Kendall took one car, while the rest of us squeezed into Jimmy's four-by-four.

Surprisingly, Harry opted to sit in the back, leaving the lovebirds up front—even though Jimmy had already started acting distant toward Anne, exactly as I'd predicted.

At some point, Harry took out one of my earphones, slipping it into his own ear before announcing, "Somebody saw your article and called me for a gig."

"Really?" Jimmy turned, sounding genuinely happy. "That's great, man!"

"Congrats!" I said, nudging his leg lightly.

"Thank you," he replied, casually taking my hand and pressing a small kiss to my knuckles before looking back out the window.

I hesitated. That small gesture shouldn't have meant anything—but somehow, it did. And I knew that if I didn't set boundaries now, things would get messy fast.

I cleared my throat. "That's what friends are for."

The second I said it, the air in the car shifted. The silence that followed wasn't exactly awkward, but it wasn't comfortable either. It just... was.

We dropped Anne off first. Jimmy barely helped with her luggage, giving her nothing more than a half-hearted wave. "See you when I see you," he said before climbing back into the car.

I was stunned. Not even a walk to her door? No goodbye hug? He was acting like they hadn't just spent days tangled up together. Jesus.

Harry was next. As we approached the small house, we had picked him up from, I felt an unexpected tightness in my chest. These past few days, we had been in this little bubble, free from everything waiting for us back in the city. But now? It was over.

He handed me my earphone back before leaning in, his breath warm against my ear. "Talk soon, beautiful."

And just like that, he was out of the car before I could say a word.

I watched him unload his gear, but before I could look away, my eyes caught movement at the window. A shadow behind the curtain. Then, the front door creaked open.

I braced myself, expecting to see Charlie.

But instead, a little girl in a pink and white tartan dress came barreling toward him.

"Hallyyyyy!" she squealed, beaming.

Harry's entire face transformed. "Hey, gorgeous," he said, scooping her up effortlessly, pressing kisses all over her pale little cheeks.

"How have you been, huh? Where's Mommy?" he asked as she pointed toward the door.

A young woman stepped out, her chocolate brown hair falling over her shoulders, dimples identical to Harry's marking her face. His sister.

I watched, stunned, as he carried the little girl inside, still holding her tightly, pressing affectionate kisses into her hair. Jimmy followed, greeting them both with familiarity, helping him with his bags.

It wasn't until we pulled away that I turned to Jimmy.

"That's Harry's sister, right?"

"Yeah. He told you about her?"

I nodded, even though he really hadn't.

Jimmy sighed. "She's been going through a lot."

Curiosity got the better of me. "What do you mean?"

He hesitated before answering. "Her little girl needs heart surgery. That's why Harry's been busting his ass taking gigs. He's trying to help her out."

I felt my stomach drop. "Oh."

"Her dad?" I asked quietly, already fearing the answer.

Jimmy shook his head. "A no-show. Never been in the picture."

I swallowed, turning back toward the window, watching the snow-covered road blur past.

"Harry loves that kid more than anything," Jimmy continued. "He'd do anything for her."

And just like that, all the pieces of the puzzle finally clicked into place.

I exhaled, barely above a whisper. "Yeah. I know. He would do anything."