"I missed you," peck. "I missed you," peck. "I miiiiiiiised you so fucking much, baby," peck.

"Harry, let me get out of these clothes," I whine, but he only grins, enjoying every second of my impatience.

"Gladly," he teases, but his lips never leave my skin, leaving a trail of kisses along my shoulder before moving back to my face. His hands work skillfully to help me remove my shirt, and even when he finally tugs it off, he still doesn't stop.

His fingers ghost down my chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The sensation is exquisite, addictive.

"Harry," I murmur, my voice dipping lower.

"Ella," he mimics, but there's something deeper in his tone—something between need and mischief.

"We need to talk," I manage to say, but his mouth is already mapping out the places he knows will drive me insane, his touch sending sparks through my entire body.

"Let me enjoy you first," he whispers, and I already know I'm going to give in.

"Okay," I breathe because nothing matters in this moment except him.

When we are both spent but sated, we stay wrapped in each other's arms, the scent of us mixing with the soft traces of hotel laundry detergent on the sheets. My cheek rests against his chest, his fingers playing lazily with my hair. The room, once loud with pleasure, has sunk into a heavy silence. The words we need to say sit between us like an unopened letter.

His breathing changes, sometimes deep and steady, other times uneven, like he's hesitating. I know that feeling well—I'm hesitating too.

"Harry?" I finally break the silence.

"We'll find a way," he replies before I can even ask the question, as if he already knows.

"Okay," I whisper because I want so badly to believe him. I don't know how we'll do it, but I have to trust that we will. I have no choice. I love him too much to even consider the alternative.

The next morning comes too soon.

Liam had packed a bag for Harry yesterday when we went to Gucci, so he never had to leave my side—not even for a moment. But now, sitting on his lap in the back of a taxi, heading to the airport, I feel like I'm suffocating. His silence mirrors mine, his arms holding me close like he's afraid to let go.

At the airport, we become part of the sad percentage of people here—the ones who aren't excited to leave, the ones who aren't looking forward to what comes next.

"Promise me you won't cry," he says softly, his arms still around me.

"I promise..."

"That's my girl."

"Not to cry in front of you," I clarify, and he chuckles, but there's no real humor in it.

"Come on, baby. Don't be like that."

"I can't help the way I feel, Harry."

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"I will."

"Promise me you'll come see me when you have time off from uni."

"I promise I'll come as soon as I have the money saved up and I don't have finals to worry about."

"Money isn't a problem anymore, Ella. I make really good money now. The flat is paid for, and I'm getting steady income from shows and shoots."

"Yeah, I know. It pays great to have this face," I joke, squeezing his cheeks.

"Don't forget the body, baby. You seem to show certain appreciation for the body too," he winks.

"Shut up," I smile softly, smacking his chest.

"I can pay for your tickets, Ella. Please don't let something like money keep us apart," he pleads.

"I can't take your money, Harry. I'll save up. I wouldn't feel comfortable otherwise."

He exhales, frustrated but not pushing it further.

"I don't want to go," I whisper, trying to change the subject. It works.

"Makes two of us," he sighs, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

He shrugs off the rucksack and hands it to me, a silent offering. The heavy scent of bad coffee and airport air lingers around us, signalling that time is running out.

"Now off you go," he says, looking down at the floor.

"Okay," I whisper, glancing at the people hurrying past us.

"So go," he repeats, still not looking at me.

"Okay," I say again, still standing in front of him, still not moving, tears welling up and spilling over despite my promise.

"Goodbye," I choke out, taking a small step back.

"Bye," he murmurs, barely audible.

I finally turn around, but it feels like ripping a part of myself away. The weight of my rucksack feels like a rock strapped to my back, my legs heavy as I force them to move toward the short queue at passport control. I don't dare look back until I hear his voice, loud and clear over the noise of the terminal.

"Ella!"

I spin around.

"To the moon and back, baby!" he shouts, and I break into a smile even as the tears fall freely down my cheeks. I raise a hand to wave goodbye before stepping forward, my heart cracking open with every step.

The officer at passport control gestures for me to approach, and my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out as I wipe my eyes.

Harry: You broke your promise, baby xx

Me: I know. I'm sorry.

Harry: Text me when you get home safe xx

Me: I will xx

Harry: I love you, baby xxx

Me: Love you too. To the moon and back xxx

Harry: We can do this xxxxxxxx

Me: We can xxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry: You know we're totally dickheads with all these kisses, right?

Me: No, you are, because I don't even have a dick. Shut up.

Harry: I love you xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Me: Me too.

Harry: No kisses? xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Me: Proof that I am not a dickhead.

Harry: xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I smile through the tears, staring at my screen, realizing that no matter how far apart we are, no matter how much it hurts, I love this man more than I have ever loved anyone.

And I know now, without a doubt, that I have to find a way to be with him. I need him, just like he always hoped I would.

When the usual suspects found out about my trip to Florence and that Harry and I were officially back together, the reactions varied.

Ed: "Fucking finally!"
Chrys: "About time. I was so fed up with your long face."
Gemma: "OMG OMG OMG this is so great, I can't believe it! Honeyyyyyyyy, Ella is back together with Harry!"
Chase: "That's nice, I guess."
Sylvia: "No way! Does that mean I can't hit on you anymore?"
Niall: "That's lovely, Gemma. Stop jumping around, baby. You'll wake Natalie. It took me forever to get her to sleep."
Mom: "So are we celebrities now?"
Jimmy: "His mouth smells like a public toilet."
Jimmy (again): "At closing time."
Anne: "I am so fucking happy, baby!"
Jimmy (third time): "I'll punch him!"
Jimmy (one more for good measure): "Wrap his thing, you know, when you know... or don't... you know what, I'll just punch him."

So yeah, the reactions were... mixed. Ed, Chrys, Gemma, and Anne were ecstatic—Gemma may have even shed a few tears. My mom was happy too, though more reserved. Chase and Niall were chill about it. Sylvia, well, was Sylvia. And Jimmy? Jimmy was ready to commit first-degree assault.

My life became a mix of texting, sexting (yes, blushing), video call dates, homework, bartending, dodging creeps at the club, avoiding Michael (whose new friendship with Niall meant bumping into him was inevitable—something Harry absolutely hated), and meeting up with the gang whenever our schedules allowed.

Harry: Babyyyyyy
Me: Yes?
Harry: Missed you
Me: We facetimed twenty minutes ago
Harry: Sooooo?
Me: Harry, where are you?
Harry: Liam is driving us to a shoot. I'm bored.
Me: Poor you.
Harry: Are you implying my job isn't tiring?
Me: It must be exhausting standing there, people fixing your hair, giving you clothes. The agony!
Harry: Are you mocking me?
Me: Wouldn't dream of it!
Harry: I'm going to be there with half-naked girls.
Me: So... like every other day?
Harry: Yes.
Me: Okay.
Harry: You don't care?
Me: Nope.
Harry: They will be completely naked then.
Me: Okay.
Harry: Licking things off my body.
Me: Okay.
Harry: Like... with their tongues.
Me: Just warn them.
Harry: Warn them about what?
Me: All the shit they put on your body to make it gleam.
Harry: Oh, you think you're funny?
Me: Yes.
Harry: Guess what we're advertising?
Me: Clothes? Hello, Gucci.
Harry: No.
Me: So what?
Harry: Condoms.
Me: You're a dick.
Harry: Yes, but you love me.
Me: I do.
Harry: To the moon and back, baby.
Me: I'm in class, baby.
Harry: Say it.
Me: To the moon and back.

Life felt full again. I was happy. Harry and I were in love. We teased each other, texted constantly, called every day. School was great, and I was making solid tips at the club, so I would soon be able to visit him. I was me again.

My article at Teen Vogue had been a hit, earning me more assignments, which in turn pleased my professor, who even congratulated me in front of the whole class. I felt incredibly lucky, like life was finally aligning the way it was supposed to.

I just needed two hundred more euros and I'd be in Florence, baby. The ticket was already covered, but I wanted extra cash for expenses. I'd saved up quite a bit, but I wanted to be safe. Money was never a topic I discussed with Harry. He had a future to build, a family to support. Whether we liked it or not, modelling had an expiration date, and he needed to save, plan, and invest in something beyond the flashing lights and runways. He didn't need me adding to his financial responsibilities, so I never let him pay for me.

"Hey, Ella," Brenda's voice cut through my thoughts.

"Hi, Brenda!" I replied with an exaggerated grin, refusing to let her ruin my mood.

I walked to my usual seat in the second row, waiting for class to start. My phone buzzed with another text from Harry, triggering another round of playful banter.

"Who are you texting?" Brenda's voice was suddenly way too close. I turned my head slightly to see her leaning over my shoulder, peeking at my screen.

"Harry," I answered.

"Styles?" she asked, her tone weirdly eager, like she already knew the answer but wanted to hear it anyway.

"Yes."

"Tell him I say hi," she smirked.

I frowned. She was mocking me, but curiosity got the better of me, so I did exactly that. The moment I sent the text, my phone lit up with Harry's name. A call. Then another. Then another.

Harry knew I was in class. I had just told him.

Brenda leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper but sharp enough to slice through my bones.

"Tell him I had a great time."

I turned my head slowly, eyes narrowing. "What?"

She smiled wider, like a cat that had just caught a mouse.

"He's really skilful," she murmured, then winked.

My stomach twisted violently. The breakfast I had earlier threatened to resurface.

And just like that, my perfect mood was shattered.