Oh. Em. Gee. Issanotha long one. Enjoy, my tulips 🌷

♬ ✥*

Serenity.

A week had passed since Harry and I met with Keon — and since our flower conversation. It was still something I thought about many times. There was only a handful of moments that Harry had showed me his soft side, and it was beautiful.

He had a creative and gentle side, and I was indirectly touching the surface. He was opening up on his own, with a slight push from me. To be honest, I didn't want to be out of his comfort zone. I wanted to see who Harry Styles actually was — and possibly be his friend.

But after that night, I knew that being 'just friends' was going to be very difficult — but nonetheless, I had no other option than to do just that.

The following day, I visited my family since it'd been a long time since I'd seen them. Charlie was still out of town for hockey, but we did manage to FaceTime him. Milo only stopped by for a little while, because he had some things to do. He lives nearby where our family home is and stops by every day to see them. Our parents told him that he didn't need to do that, but he appreciated everything they did for us growing up, so seeing them for even fifteen minutes a day wasn't enough in comparison.

Milo was a kindhearted soul, giving an infinite amount of love to those who mean a lot to him. I'd never met anyone who was like him and it made my own heart swell. More people should be like him. 

As for what we did, we just sat in the yard under the covered pergola since it was raining. It was a beautiful day, even if the skies were storming down on the world; but being with family, the company was the most important thing to consider.

My brother asked me about how things were going, including a specific question regarding how Harry was. I told him that I didn't know but he didn't believe me — so I kindly told him to shove off. He just laughed, saying that was the harshest language I'd ever said. Nonetheless, mom wasn't too happy about that.

I did stop by on Monday to the architecture's firm that Keon works at. I handed him the building plans and was happy to see me — and see professionalism. He then dropped by a couple of days later, with a crew, to confirm the dimensions.

Harry also emailed me on the same day, asking that he wanted me to come to his office to talk about some new details. I asked what it was about, but apparently, it was undisclosed information. With a strange feeling, I guessed it to be a lie since it involved only us through the business contract. There was something else, but I decided to come anyway.

So here I was, standing by Iris' desk, chatting with her while Harry finished a meeting he had that stretched out longer than planned. I didn't mind since his PA and I had become close friends ever since our first outing.

She told me more about her boyfriend who had surprised her with a romantic weekend vacation at a hotel in the city, 'just to switch things up.' It was an adorable gesture, and I only wished that one day someone could do something like that for me.

The most I'd ever gotten was a picnic in the park — and that's it.

I deserved someone who would love me, right? Everyone deserves that.

About fifteen minutes after I arrived, both Iris and I jumped at the sound of Harry's voice echoing through the floor. Something had clearly gone wrong, and he wasn't happy. According to Iris, he wasn't in the best mood when he showed up today either — so, that clearly didn't help.

Or at least, a mood that was above vexed and less than pique; but it seemed that he hit the level of rage today.

The doors to his office, opening and shutting, were heard from a distance, and a man hastened outside as quickly as he could. The poor man was terrified; I didn't blame him — if I were yelled at like that, I'd feel the same way.

I could tell that Iris was anxious since I was facing him next. She'd already let him know that I'd arrived earlier. I felt like I was going into a final exam, and incredibly nervous believing that I was surely going to fail — it was not the best feeling, that's for sure.

As I'd done before many times, I knocked on the door and entered when I heard his smooth voice tell me to enter. He wasn't as loud, but the demanding tone was still highly evident.

Harry was standing by his window, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His hair was styled perfectly, as it always was. Black slacks, with faint grey stripes, covered his lean legs, the jacket hung on the rack beside his desk. A crisp white button-down adorned his fit torso, and his stance was confident as could be. His shoes were polished, not a spec of dirt in sight.

However, for the first time, I sensed that something was not right.

"Hi," I spoke softly, testing to see if his mood had changed.

That was a long shot.

"Hey," he said in return, and my lips slightly parted.

He actually greeted me. Yeah, something was definitely wrong.

Harry downed the rest of his drink, then turned around to face me. His expression wasn't as cold as it seemed to be when I first walked in, and his shoulders weren't as tense. It's almost as if my presence calmed him somehow.

Making his way to the bar cart, he placed the empty glass on top, then walked back to sit on his chair. He gestured for me to do the same, in which I did. However, when I took a seat, the position of how the light hit his face, I immediately knew that he wasn't himself — it was clear as day.

"So, I wanted to talk to you about the designs. Keon contacted me this morning stating that he'd finalised a proof and —"

"Yeah, I got an email as well," I informed him, and he didn't seem pleased that he wasn't the first to know. His brows furrowed at the information, but he didn't say anything.

It's my business, Harry. Of course, I would know.

"Anyway," he continued, narrowing his eyes at me, "I have several meetings that I won't be able to cancel, so we'll have to meet with him next week."

"I can meet with him myself. You don't have to be there," I pointed out the truth — and again, that didn't make things better. He clearly wanted to be present, but I had to get things done myself. I wasn't going to keep waiting for him so that I could start to have some progress on what I needed the money for. 

If I didn't know any better, it almost seemed like Harry wanted to prolong the process for an undisclosed reason — one that seemed quite personal.

"Why can't you wait?"

"Why can't I go alone?" My frustration seeped through the roof at his persistence to get his way. "If it's about the last meeting we had, that's not your place to decide for me. I also saw him when he came to the studio, you weren't there, and everything was fine."

"This is not up for discussion," he snapped, disregarding everything I said.

My brows at his firm statement; but just about I was going to respond, I noticed he swayed slightly in his chair. He placed his elbow on the desk, and rested his head in the palm of his hand. Concern immediately filled my veins at his actions.

"Harry, are you feeling alright?"

"I feel just fine," he said, each word being a truthful lie. His face was incredibly pale, and I could see how his eyes kept squinting when looking at something.

"Fine is not an emotion. How are you actually feeling?"

"I'm —" he tried to continue, but I cut him off by leaning across his desk and placing my hand on his forehead. Retracting it, I furrowed my brows at him.

"Your skin is burning, H. You have a fever," I stated.

"I said, I feel fine. Let's get back to the matter of work I called you about. So —"

"First of all, I'm not working, and neither are you." My interruption didn't please him.

"You have a habit of telling me what to do, don't you?" he asked with a dark tone, but that wasn't going to work on me. I wasn't his employee that he could talk to like that. Heck, he shouldn't even speak to them like that regardless of the reason.

"H, I'm taking you home, let's go," I said, shaking my head as I stood.

"I'm not —"

"Why are you so damn stubborn?" My tone was well past irritated right now — and he called me infuriating.

"It's in my blood."

"Suck it up, Styles. Let's go," I spoke firmly, narrowing my eyes at him, mimicking his earlier actions. "Harry, you can barely focus."

"Serenity, would you ju— fuck —" Before he could finish his sentence, he quickly reached for the trash can next to his desk. His body hunched over the pail, emptying the contents of whatever his stomach held.

I swiftly walked over to him, rubbing the middle of his back softly, while his hands were tightly clutching on the container.

"I don't feel so well."

"I figured as much," I said, letting out a sigh. Grabbing hold of the tissue box on the desktop, I passed it over to him, and he took a couple to wipe his mouth. There was also water bottles under the cart by the window, so I gave him one of those as well. "Come on, Harry. You need some rest."

"Okay." His voice was defeated, the tiredness already taken over from the effort he just made. He stood up from his seat, and placed his hand quickly on the edge of the desk, steadying himself.

Pulling his suit jacket from the stand, I placed it over his shoulders as I took hold of his hands. I made sure to grab his phone, as well as my purse, before we walked through the doors.

Iris stood up immediately when she saw us, concern written all over her face. I explained to her the gist of the situation, and let her know that someone needed to clean the bin in his office. She showed a sympathetic smile towards us, telling her boss to feel better soon, and made our way towards his elevator.

He didn't really say too much, the exhaustion kicking into full gear, and all I wanted was for him to rest. By the time we made it to the car, he struggled to hold himself up entirely, relying on me to help walk us both — and that made my heart ache more for him.

Archie was waiting by the car, clearly concerned by the sight of his boss. I could see the caring affection in his eyes, as he seemed to always have treated him like he was his own. He asked me if Harry was okay, but I just shook my head and told him to take us home.

No other questions were asked as Harry, and I got in the car, our hands remaining joined. His driver excused himself for a couple of minutes, running out to grab something, which turned out to be a bag — just in case. I gave him a small smile at his gesture.

"I'm c-cold." The words left his mouth just as he shivered and I couldn't help but pull him closer to me to try and gain some warmth.

Showing vulnerability was rare with Harry. This added to the few times I'd seen this state of him. I wasn't sure whether it was because he physically couldn't handle it, or if he felt comfortable enough to let his body break down so easily in front of me.

Archie drove us through the city, unsure where exactly Harry's home was, so I didn't know how long the drive would be. During it, though, he tried to spew up twice, but nothing came out. I assumed that whatever it was he let out earlier was his breakfast; and I highly doubted that he had anything other than his daily coffee — and the whiskey. He was exhausted and very weak.

When the car stopped, I finally turned away from Harry to look out the window, and was surprised to see where we were.

My place.

I glanced at Archie in the rear-view mirror who's lips were curled upwards — just slightly. He then got out of the car to open the door for us, which was a tad difficult with Harry supporting on me.

Catching Harry's suit jacket before it fell, I placed it back on his shoulders, and held onto him as best as I could. Archie helped us go up the main stairs to my apartment and all the way to my front door. It put me at ease when I continued to see how careful he was with him.

"You'll need these." A packet and small case were held in Archie's hand, and I took it with a smile, thanking him. We both knew that Harry would need them.

I bid him goodbye as I unlocked my apartment door and pulled Harry inside with me. As gently as I could, I moved him over to sit on the couch, making sure all of River's things were out of the way — which thankfully they were. I'd gotten him a covered garment rack so that he could put everything. He was a neat person, and it helped me immensely, especially with knowing how tiny my apartment was. I placed a small garbage can next to him, watching as he wrapped his arms around his stomach, swaying in his seat.

A soft purr was heard as Luna curled her body around Harry's leg.

Oh, no.

I couldn't have her in the apartment now, so I quickly put her in the bathroom while I called Amara. I was lucky that she was able to let Luna stay with her for the night, assuming that's how long Harry would need to rest. There was no way I was going to let him leave with him still being sick.

I was aware that he had no one to care for him. Not once was a family member brought up or mentioned, and it surely wasn't my business to ask Archie or Iris anything about them. It was Harry's life, and if he didn't want to share it, it was his choice — and his alone.

What assured me that there wasn't anyone else around for Harry, was the fact that when I told Archie to bring us home, he didn't take us to his place, but to mine. I wasn't entirely sure why he did such a thing, but I wasn't complaining. Taking care of him in my own house was more comfortable for me, and I was going to do the best I could to make sure Harry felt the same way.

It took Amara less than ten minutes to come and pick up Luna, peaking through to see my investor sitting on my couch in the worst state I'd ever seen him in. She only smiled, leaving all teasing comments aside as she called me a saint for what I was doing.

I was in no way a saint.

To my luck, Harry didn't sneeze from his allergies towards my cat; and honestly, I wasn't even sure he was aware of anything that was happening around him. My other fortune was that I had other clothes so that he could change into. I pulled out a pair of sweats and shirt that one of my brother's always left behind when they occasionally slept over. I figured it might be a bit strange to give him something of River's without asking. They were all had about the same figure, but they were loose clothes, so it didn't make too much of a difference.

He didn't question me when I handed him them so he could change. I let him do that while I went into the bedroom to strip my bed of the comforter and sheets, replacing them with a washed and cat fur-free set. I also took the time to change into comfier clothes.

I heard him step into my bathroom, letting out more into the toilet as he coughed vigorously. I did everything in my power not to follow him in case he needed it for personal business as well. There was nothing else I could do but wait.

When I came back outside, I saw him changed, sitting back down on the couch. His head hung low, fatigue still evident with his appearance. I gave him a new toothbrush that he could use. Then, slowly, I moved him into my bed, helping him get comfortable.

"Harry, you need to take them out," I rubbed his arm slightly.

"What?"

"I know you wear glasses, H. You can't sleep with your contacts in," I spoke softly, and quickly got his attention. His tired eyes widened at the realisation that I knew the secret he's kept for what seemed to be years.

I could hear him mumble something, but I wasn't sure what it was. He wanted to refuse even though we both knew that he couldn't. Handing him the case, I watched as he carefully took each one out and placed them inside each compartment.

There had to be a reason why he never wanted to tell another soul about them. He knew that no one would look at him up close and personal like I had done. As far as I knew, only Archie was the only one aware of this; and almost certain that Iris didn't have a clue.

"Don't worry, H, I won't tell anyone," I assured him, helping him lay down again, covering his body with the comforter. His eyes fluttered shut, unable to keep them open any longer. "Just rest, okay?"

Once more, I felt his forehead, still feeling a fever. I quickly went and prepared a few hand towels so I could do cold compresses for him. I sat down on the edge of the bed and began Harry's healing journey. Doing this only reminded me of when I was a child, and my dad would do the same for me. My stomach was always sensitive as a kid, and I would constantly get the bug with a mild fever — which was basically what this precious Englishman had.

A half-hour or so later, I stopped and waited a bit to see if his fever had gone done — and thankfully it seemed a bit lower. I only wished that I had a thermometer, but I was out of luck for that.

I let Harry properly rest after that, checking up on him every once in a while. I sent Riv a text telling him to find another place to crash tonight — I'd bet ten bucks he'd go to Amara's. I then quietly did a few chores around the apartment. Afterwards, I checked the fridge to see what I could make for him to eat — and thanks to River, I barely had anything. Because of that, I made a quick trip to the grocery store nearby.

The moment I got back home, I started to prepare a few different things, making sure nothing was too heavy. Chicken noodle soup, soda crackers, bananas, and chamomile tea.

And he was going to drink it whether he wanted to or not.

It was about three hours later when I entered my bedroom to find him just starting to wake up. Placing the tray on the bed, I grabbed a small chair so that I could sit properly beside him.

"Hey, Tiger," I spoke softly, with a smile.

Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he fluttered them back open, trying to focus on me. I handed him his glasses so he could put them on. His brows were furrowed as he looked around, unfamiliar with where he was.

"You're in my bedroom, Harry. Archie brought us here," I explained, but he still didn't seem able to comprehend things.

"Um, alright," he said, his voice scratchy. 

"How're you feeling now?"

"I'm not as cold, but my stomach still feels weird."

"That's expected, but you've got to try and get something in your system. I made you some soup with crackers."

"You made me food?" Harry looked at me, surprise filling his eyes more than confusion.

"I wasn't going to bring you here you so could starve. Your office was a better place for that," I joked and was in slight shock when he cracked the smallest of smiles.

"It better taste good," he dryly spoke and I let out a small laugh.

"Well, you'll just have to try it to find out. If you get any sicker, then you'll know it was my cooking."

"Great way to make me excited to eat. In that case, I'd rather not."

"Styles, you have two options and two options only. One, either you eat it by yourself, or two, I'll spoon feed you. Take your pick," I spoke with a grin.

"Fine," he muttered. I helped him sit up a bit more and placed the tray over his lap.

As per usual, Harry dipped the spoon into the soup, then raised it to inspect it. I swear this man had to have been an inspector of some sort in an alternate life.

"For the love of God, just drink your soup, Harry."

"I'm the sick one, be nice."

"You're acting like a child. The soup won't bite. Just drink it, please. It's getting colder by the second."

"Fucking hell," he muttered, coughing once before finally placing the spoon into his mouth. His eyes shut tightly, almost as if he was preparing to grimace at the taste, but then quickly opened in marvel.

"So?"

"Um, this is fucking delicious," he said, taking another spoonful. "Where'd you buy it?"

Those words left his mouth, and I frowned.

"Dude, you really need to work on your manners, and seriously think before you speak."

"What?"

"I made it," I spoke flatly, and his expression dropped, and quietly muttered a curse word.

"Look, I'm sorry. I just — I didn't think you know how to cook."

"I've surprised you many times before, Harry. Why don't you ever expect great things from people?"

"I don't know you very well."

"That's no excuse. You're a businessman. You're supposed to know and see from a first glance if someone seems worthy to make a deal. If someone were to show up to a meeting wearing shorts, a ripped shirt, and sandals, would you take them seriously?"

"No."

"Alright, and if someone shows up in a pressed suit, or with a formal business outfit with heels. Would you take them seriously?"

"That's an obvious answer."

"Right, it would make sense. But the main point is, what if that person in a suit is some wannabe businessman or woman who cheated their way through college?" I explained. "And what if the person in the shorts has a PhD and graduated with honours, but just felt comfortable to wear that outfit? Sure it might be as professional, but they could be the most successful."

"I get your point," he said, clearly frustrated.

"But you don't."

"Why do you say —"

"I showed up in a professional outfit, but you didn't take me seriously," I spoke and he went completely silent. "Sure, given the way I showed up in your office and practically broke into it was wrong, but were my overall proposal and presentation worthy?"

He let out a deep breath in proper understanding, then nodded. "I see."

"I just wish you wouldn't jump to conclusions so quick, H. Assumptions can either make or break a person's career and life. We can't decide on a first glance. We're human, and we have flaws and make mistakes. It can happen in our lives, but you, you've shown on multiple occasions that I'm not good enough for many things."

"I'm sorry, Serenity."

"Not good enough."

"I'm sick, can you give me a pass this time?" he shyly spoke.

He was trying to sweet-talk his way out of this one.

And it was working.

I put the entire blame on that adorable dimple deepening in his cheek.

"Okay, it might be just slightly past good enough," I said, cracking a smile at his charming antics.

He was definitely a charmer.

Without another word, Harry glanced back down at his bowl, and finished up the entirety of its contents with occasionally eating a cracker in-between.

"Thank you."

"It was nothing, Harry. You weren't feeling well, I was just taking care of you."

"But you didn't have to."

"I wanted to."

"Sorry I took over your bedroom. I didn't —" he suddenly stopped. "Don't you have a cat?"

"Yeah. Her name's Luna. When you first got here, she came up to your leg and wanted some attention. She's usually tame and doesn't cuddle against people who she's not familiar with, but apparently, she took to a liking for you."

"I mean, I am charming."

"And also a narcissist," I said with a pointed look. "I'm surprised you didn't start sneezing up a storm. Glad you didn't, though. Don't know how that would've worked with, well, you know, vomiting and whatnot. Anyhoo, I called Mars up to take care of her for the night."

"The night? What time is it?"

"It's a bit past eight."

"What?" he exclaimed but started coughing again. It was the last thing I wanted for his throat to get more irritated than it already was. Gently, I rubbed his shoulder. He looked at where my hand was before he glanced back at me. I could tell that he wasn't bothered by it, so I didn't remove my touch.

"Harry, you're staying here for the night. I'm not letting you go home."

"Are you holding me hostage, Miss Hayes?"

"Call it what you will, Mr Styles, but yes, I am." I grinned.

Harry then looked down at his lap, his fingers fidgeting together in nervousness before he glanced at me once more."

"Can I — um —"

"What do you want?" I asked him softly. "Can I get you something else?"

"Not something else, but..." he trailed off quietly, "...can I have more soup?"

His sheepish and shy expression warmed my heart. He was simply adorable. This was definitely a side of Harry I would rarely get a chance to see again, and I was going to cherish it as much as I could.

"Of course." I nodded, taking his tray from him, and made my way back into the kitchen. Quickly thinking of something else, though, I popped my head back into the bedroom. "Do you want to sit in the living room or stay here?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Let's have you sit there for a bit. We could watch a movie if you'd like," I suggested while moving towards Harry, and helped him out of bed. He was a lot more stable, but I just maybe wanted to stay by his side.

"I haven't seen a movie in years," he spoke, and I stopped us in our tracks.

"Say what now?" I looked up at him, dumbfounded.

"Yeah. I can't remember the last time I went to the theatres. As for just watching a movie, it was maybe back in university, I think." His tone was unsure, trying to recall his past, and all I could think about was how crazy he was.

So I told him.

"You're crazy."

"I'm not —"

"You're crazy. You need a certificate for that or something," I said, once he sat down.

"That's not very nice. Now, where's my soup?"

"The man says I'm not nice, but doesn't even say please," I mumbled, as I walked into the kitchen, and heated the pot again since it had gotten a bit cold. A sneaky idea popped in my mind as I made my way back to him. "Harry, you'll only get your soup if you do two simple things."

"Which are?"

"You watch a movie with me and you drink tea."

"Fucking seriously? You're joking."

"Would you believe it?" I grinned, and he muttered a series of curse words, knowing that he'd have to do as I said.

And he did, replying to me with a two small defeated nods.

He clearly really loved that soup, or else he wouldn't have agreed to it.

"So I'm going to let you choose the movie."

"What? Why?"

"Because I want to see your taste in genres."

"Alright." He let out a sigh as I turned on the TV and handed him the remote. Slowly, he began searching through an extensive list, switching through the all of the genres; but I noticed one thing, he kept returning to Disney movies.

"Which one of them is your favourite?"

"I've, um, never seen any," he slowly said — and this time, I didn't tease him about it.

There was so much about Harry's past that seemed off. He clearly had gone through something grim. In this day and era, who hasn't seen a cartooned film?

"What's your favourite?" he asked.

"I love Sleeping Beauty, The Little Mermaid, and Tangled. Beauty and the Beast is really good too. Those are all Disney princesses, though. There's a whole lot more."

"You pick in that case."

I thought for a moment, then decided on one that I believed would put another beautiful smile on his face — the funniest of the four I mentioned. "Let's watch Tangled."

Quickly, I went and grabbed a blanket so that he wouldn't get cold again and covered him with it. Harry then went on asking about what it was about, so I gave him a brief explanation, while I gave him a freshly poured bowl of soup and chamomile tea.

His meal was devoured in minutes, savouring each bite, yet still not fully satisfied. He shyly asked for another, but I told him to wait and see if his stomach was settled a bit more. Grumbling, he slowly began to drink the tea I'd made him, grimacing after each sip.

Needless to say, I called him a bratty child, even though he was far from one. He was, however, absolutely adorable. The pinkness of his cheeks had returned, along with the colour of his face. I knew he still felt uneasy, and it would last a while.

A quarter way into the movie, I was cosied up on the couch, my own tea finished, along with Harry's. Just as I started to feel cold, though socks covered my feet, Harry lifted his legs to rest them up on the coffee table. It was something I wasn't I liked, which I also scolded River about several times, I wasn't entirely bothered by it right now. I wanted him to feel comfortable — and maybe he was getting the free-pass card because he was ill.

Suddenly, he lifted the blanket and gently tugged on my arm so I could scoot closer. He let it drop softly, covering the both of us. A small smile curled up on our lips, but neither of us verbally acknowledged what he'd done. It was the sweetest gesture.

Harry Styles was very smooth — and I don't think he had a single clue about that.

Throughout the film, several laughs erupted from me, and much more from Harry. The way his eyes lit up anytime he saw Flynn and Maximus together, a smile on his face would appear. I tried not to look at him because I didn't want him to notice. The fact at how clever and determined Rapunzel was, he commented quietly at how I was the same way.

It never occurred to me how similar she and I were — even with our love for the stars.

Not to mention her dress was purple — and that was my favourite colour.

The moment all of the lanterns escaped in the sky, the part I adored the most in the entire film, I could see Harry look at the screen in such awe. He mumbled the quietest, "wow," and it made me smile.

And that was the last thing I heard before I fell into a peaceful slumber.

...

A/N:

Soft. Soft. SOFT and TIGER'S BACK!

So one of Harry's secret's have been revealed. Who had a hunch that he wore glasses? Why do you think he doesn't want anyone to know?

Another bit about his past came rolling in through. Harry's never seen movies in a long time...and has never seen any Disney films. That's one more, why?

What other thoughts did you have about the chapter? Tell me, tell me! 

Softness will continue for a bit more. Hehe. 

What's your favourite Disney movie?

Please press on that little star on the chapter, I mean, it only takes a millisecond. They're nice gifts.

Kissy, stay golden, and TPWK my tulips!

S x