Hiiii, my rosy tulips 🌷
I'll let the chapter speak for itself.
See you when you finish. Enjoy!

♬ ✥*

Serenity.

It was nearing the end of June, and I have yet the chance to truly experience summer.

River and Amara had gone on several weekend trips and invited me to go with them, but I wasn't in the mood to be a third-wheeler. Now that they were dating, it wasn't entirely the same, but I was perfectly alright with it.

To be honest, it wasn't about tagging along that was on my mind the most, it was the fact I'd be surrounded by a couple who seemed very much in love.

Which was true, since the last trip they'd gone off somewhere in the mountains, they both declared their love for one another. I was truly happy for them but slightly envious.

They haven't been dating for a long time, just a mere two months or so, but they had something special.

Love has no time limit — and I would know.

I fell in love with a man who's refusing to even acknowledge his emotions.

"So things 'aven't been well with Styles, 'ave they?" River's question broke me out of my thoughts.

My two friends and I were at the Quaint Corner Café, having a proper bestie time together — it was long overdue.

My brows furrowed at him as I looked at him with a confused expression. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, for one, you've been staring at your phone screen for the past ten minutes. Second, you haven't mentioned his name in a week," Amara pointed out, "No no, my mistake. Actually, you have. But the only way you've been saying it as with how much he's been pissing you off.

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is," they both replied simultaneously.

"Okay, fine. You caught me," I said sarcastically, waving my hands in partial emphasis.

"Gee, thanks for the details," Mars spoke then let out a short laugh. "Those coming out anytime soon?"

I closed my eyes shut, and pinched the bridge of my nose before I let out a deep sigh. I couldn't escape from not telling then, but maybe, this would help. I was keeping most of it to myself, other than the small bits of info that I was sharing with Milo.

Charlie called one night, and he could quickly tell that something was off, so he suggested to beat up whoever made me feel like that. He was incredibly protective, but it wasn't necessary.

It's not like he hasn't done that before. One time, he was almost kicked off his team for aggressive violence. After an intense evaluation, it turned out that it wasn't even his fault — or at least, he didn't start the fight. Nonetheless, Charlie knew how to hit a mean punch. The living proof lies in the roof of our basement when the boxing bag fell straight through the drywall. He definitely got a good yelling from our mom that night — he was 15.

But maybe that would at least knock some sense into Harry.

No, Serenity. Stop.

I am not going to chase after him.

Even though I missed him terribly.

I hated these frustrating feelings.

Unfortunately, I wasn't going to get out of telling my friends at least something so that they could get off my back. They listened intently the entire time, not commenting much, and that's one thing I loved about them.

"Hold up..." Amara put her finger up to silence me. "Is that Harry?"

Out of everyone I knew, including myself, I was the 'interrupter'. I couldn't help myself when it came to specific conversations. The people who I was close with weren't bothered anymore with how I was, except for Harry; that man just calls me infuriating because of it — or possibly many more things, and —

Wait a second. Did she just mention Harry?

"What?"

"Over there," she said, pointing through the windows.

And that's when I saw him walking towards the front doors of the café.

Through the dark, our eyes met from a distance away. Harry's gems widened as he realised that he was caught red-handed.

What in the stars was he doing here of all places?

With complete confidence, he strolled right inside and went straight up to the cashier. Cora recognised him quickly with a wide smile on her face. Harry greeted her, ordering what I assumed to be a large black coffee. The moment he picked up his drink, she called him back and handed him a blueberry muffin on a plate.

That's when I noticed his small meal was not to-go.

Slowly, he made his way over to a free table a few metres away from us. Not a word was exchanged between Riv, Amara, and I, as we all watched his actions. It wasn't creepy that we were observing his every move, because it was weird enough that this place was definitely not on his way home — he came here for a purpose.

And that was either because he just wanted to see me or to piss me off.

Or maybe both.

But this was getting absolutely ridiculous.

"You're not going to say hi?" Mars asked, and I shook my head.

Not a chance.

"No. If he wants to say hi, he'll come to us. This is the place where we always come to. He's only been here once before," I replied, then moved my view away from him. "So what were we talking about?"

Unfortunately, our conversation was about him; but Harry could shove it if he even thinks I'm going to give him the attention he doesn't deserve.

It took about ten minutes of him sipping on his drink and quietly eating his muffin, all while keeping his eyes focused on our table. From the reflection on my glasses, I noticed that he began to shift in his spot, fidgeting more with his fingers, and ran them through his pretty hair multiple times. His teeth would clench every time I laughed, leaning a little more into River while I did so.

It wasn't purposeful, but just out of habit.

But when I finally gave in to my deepest desires to look at him again, his silhouette was seen leaving as the main door began to close.

A pang hit my heart, feeling it break as his presence got further and further away.

Suddenly, I felt a hand rubbing my arm, and I turned to face my friends who had worrisome expressions.

And I didn't realise that it was because I had shed a tear. It slid down my cheek, falling into a dangerous pool of recent heartbroken moments.

River pulled me in his arms, hugging me to his chest, and for the first time in public, I let out silent sobs. I wished that things would be different — that I wasn't so weak.

I wished that I could truly be with the man I loved.

♬ ✥*

It was obvious to say that last night was rough.

Amara stayed over at my place, keeping me company as I comforted myself with sappy rom-coms with unhappy endings. I might've finished two pints of ice cream, which was two times worse than my regular moments of misery. Mars even decided to make some popcorn. We both had an obsession for it, but it just added to the reason why I may — or may not — have gained a few pounds in the past few weeks.

River had an early morning at the company, so he couldn't stay, and suggested that it would be best for just us girls to stay together. I thanked him for that because it was exactly what I needed.

And today, even my students noticed that something was up, because the first thing they said after greeting me was asking if I was 'okay.'

I felt compelled to lie since there was nothing else that I could say. They were my young dancing pupils, and I wasn't going to open up about my personal life to them. It wasn't appropriate and simply not professional.

So instead, I huddled the handful or girls and boys, instructing them to stretch at the barre.

But precisely twelve minutes later, after tendus, from passé to retiré, then to plié was when the class was interrupted by one very obnoxious male.

"Serenity!" Harry's voice boomed in the studio, and I snapped my head up towards the man who was walking inside with fury written all over his face.

My students' focus was also on Harry, with their hands delicately placed on the barre, gracefully remaining in plié form.

"Mr Styles, what are you doing here? I'm in the middle of a class," I spoke, appalled by his sudden entrance.

For the first time, I had never seen he look like such a mess. His hair was disheveled, the suit was wrinkled, the tie loose around his neck, and his shoes were scuffed up. He was absolutely miserable and it broke my heart to see him like this. The Harry I knew was always presentable and confident, but this was a man who was in utter turmoil and despair.

"I need to talk to you," he demanded, and I crossed my arms.

"Did you not hear what I just said?"

"I don't fucking care."

Wow. He sure had balls to say that.

Because of his words, I narrowed my eyes at him in a glare.

"Well, Mr CEO, you don't always get what you want. You want to talk to me, you're going to wait forty-five minutes in the office, or you'll have to come back later. Take your pick," I sternly spoke, and waited to hear his reply. He looked at me, at my students, and then returned his focus on me.

"I'll wait in the office," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"Splendid. Now leave," I said, narrowing my eyes, pointing in the direction he needed to go — even though he probably already knew the space. I raised my hands so that my students could rest by standing upright.

He looked back at me as he made his way there. It seemed as if he was hoping I'd change my mind, but that wasn't going to happen.

I was in the middle of teaching, and I had my own professional appearance I needed to uphold. If Harry wanted to be immature and act like it — he definitely did. If he wanted to make things go his way all the time, he was delusional.

The only problem was that for the rest of my class, I was not myself. I tried my best to focus on what I was doing, teaching my little dancers how to understand and experience improvisation. They needed to be fluid and know how to move in multiple ways and forms.

If it wasn't raining, I would've taken them to the grassy park that was a block away. I'd done it before to let them see how street dance was also a true form of dance. Many people didn't believe so because it wasn't taught in a proper studio with barres along the mirrored walls, but it was.

Dance was a way to express yourselves in ways that words could never do.

My way of teaching was very different from others, but I believed that this was the best way to do it. Dancers are tactical, yet still spontaneous. For them to become professional dancers, they needed to learn and practice all forms of it.

Thirty minutes passed on, and I showed a smile whenever I could, still trying to hold myself together. I knew there were tons of questions that my students had, many more than just asking who was that strange, angry man. Of course, I apologised for his behaviour and answered them by saying he was just the person who I was renting this studio from.

Technically, it was a half-lie.

But now, I had to face the man who I had feelings for. Even though he was breaking my heart with his actions — and the words that escaped his lips.

Lips that I'd wanted to place my own upon them and kiss him passionately.

But they were also lips that let cruel words leave them — words that have wounded my heart in more ways than I ever imagined.

Those were new feelings and wishes.

When I gave the final wave to the last student who left through the main doors, I couldn't help but lean against the front wall. I didn't know what to do, but at the same time, somehow, I did.

My heart was confused, as was my brain — and heck, they were not working together.

Finally, I gained some strength and confidence and made my way into my temporary office.

Harry stood looking at some of the frames I had on my desk and one in specific — when we went to the carnival together. I don't know what possessed me to print and frame it after all the hurt he put me through, but there it was, in my workspace where I could always see it.

When I opened the door a bit more, he turned around to face me and met my gaze intently. His eyes were direct on mine, flickering back and forth, reading them deeply. It was intimidating, and yet, truly mesmerising.

However, a minute or so went by, and not a word was spoken between us. It reminded me of the time he unexpectedly showed up at the café the first time. We shared a beautiful and unforgettable moment while my friends surrounded us.

Getting out of the trance we were in, I furrowed my brows and began to speak.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Seriously?" I let out a short, unamused laugh. "Harry, you are the one who came into my studio wanting to talk. So talk."

"I — I don't know where to start," he spoke, then looked down at his fingers, picking slightly at his nails.

"Alright, fine," I said, utterly frustrated with his behaviour. "I'll go then. How's about we start with how much of a dick you've been lately? We already went through the whole business aspect of it, but you don't need to treat me like I'm dirt. You've been talking to me with short answers, never actually answering my questions when I ask them. I lost track of how many times you've called me pathetic and insulted me. You told me that when we first met, but I pushed past that, but why are you doing it lately?"

Stopping, I watched Harry's expression as he looked at me. His lips were slightly parted, and his hands were now clenched. I started to see his ears heat as anger began to build within him.

And that was exactly what I was hoping for.

"So tell me, Harry, or shall I say Mr Styles, why have you been constantly putting me down? Why are you calling me the worst names?"

"Because you've been pissing me off with every single fucking thing you do. Always on my back, never leaving me alone," he snapped.

"Me? Wow. I've given you tons of space, and as for pissing you off, well if you answered me right from the first time, I wouldn't have to keep bugging you."

"You're always so fucking demanding. You want things done as soon as possible like I'd have the time for you."

"Oh, is that so, eh?" I snorted. "Then how come you always find time to be there when I'm dancing or hanging out with River? Or at the studio checking on the renovation progress, which you know still has another two weeks to go. You know all those details."

"I do not."

"Don't lie, asshole." My eyes narrowed at him.

"I've never lied." Yet, there he was, doing it again.

"You have. Plenty times to me actually, then you always say you don't. Right now is a clear example. Enough with them," I yelled.

"Stop turning this on me."

"I'm not turning anything on you. You did it all on yourself. You want this to be about you, playing the victim card, and trying to put me in fault all the time. I do everything wrong. I'm irritating. I'm pathetic. I'm demanding. I'm annoying. I'm jealous because —"

"I'm not fucking jealous. Why would I be? Especially because of him."

I wasn't even talking about that, but okay. If he wants to take this route, let's smooth onto that highway.

"And there you go admitting it. So, if it wasn't River, you wouldn't be jealous? Hell, even with the construction manager, and all of the workers, you said they were flirting with me. Or what about Keon?"

"They all fucking were! Don't tell me that they weren't!"

"No, they were nice, while you were being an ass!"

"I'm just looking out for you, that's all," he said, his voice toned down just a smidge.

"No, that's what my brothers do — my family. And that's also what my friends do. You've claimed that you didn't want to be that. So, I'm not. You're just my investor, we were friends, and that's it."

"Bullshit!"

"Tell me why, Harry. Why is that bullshit?" I seethed.

"Because you know that we can't just be friends."

"So you don't want to be friends, then what can you be, huh? Tell me." pushed, hoping that he'd finally say something.

"I can't!"

"Stop being a pussy and actually say what you feel! If you don't care about me, then why the fuck are you here right now?"

I don't think I've ever cursed so much in my entire life. Who was I?

"For fuck's sake, Serenity. I do care!" he confessed, and my heart nearly stopped at his confession.

"What?" I spoke, my voice quiet and in no comparison to how it was just seconds earlier.

"I do care about you. I care so much that it fucking hurts."

Holding my ground, I had to push him to speak to me — to open up. "Why?"

"Because..." he paused, gazing into my eyes, and took a step closer to me. "...because I want you."

"You wa—"

"Serenity, for once time, just shut up," he said, before pulling me by my arm, my chest forcefully hitting his own. I felt the warmth of his breath hit my face as he held my tight in place. My right hand couldn't find any other place to go, so it settled just above his heart, feeling its quick pace. "I don't just want you. I need you. I need you in my life."

"Then why do you push me away?" The distance between us was enough so I could see his eyes up close, trying to read him — trying to understand him.

"I thought that if I pushed you away, I wouldn't want you. But I can't do it anymore. I can't stay away from you. Your studio is your Starlight, but Serenity..." he trailed off, flickering his eyes between mine. "...you are my Starlight."

And before I could comprehend what he'd just said, his lips crashed on mine, capturing them and I willingly surrendered.

Soft, gentle, tender, and passionate. Those were only a few of the emotions I felt as delicate rose petals danced against mine. Everything about our kiss was sweet and pure, yet so desperate and intense. A soft little hum was heard as if he was pleased, and had been longing to feel me against him.

My hand travelled to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me, the other placed on his chest. The tips of my fingers curled around the short hairs on the base. My waist was embraced within his grasp, holding me hostage so I could escape — even if I could, I would never want to.

This man has held my heart for weeks, and I was finally able to feel the beating of his own against my body. Fast beats were pumping under the touch of my right thumb. His skin was warm, burning under the identical fire as my own.

Mushy marshmallows, both unsteady and weak, as my legs had begun to fail to keep my upright. His grip on me secured further, knowing that I could no longer be able to stand on my own.

I was a mess because of him.

A mess that I could stay in forever because of him.

And as we slowly parted, my eyelashes fluttered open only to see something that I'd never seen before. At the sight, a gasp escaped my lips.

My Tiger became a baby cub as I softly cupped his cheeks, gazing into his sparkling emerald gems. He looked at me so tenderly and warm — and in a way that I was entirely lost in. The Milky Way galaxy could not compare to the majestical shimmering in his eyes. Speckles of gold scattered within them, showing me that even the most magnificent stars were in existence.

And there, I found one spectacular fleck of a dark crimson — and it made my loving organ skip another beat. The red star of Antares, the heart of Scorpius, belonged in him. The single luminous twinkle was in the man I adored so deeply. It was there all along.

He was there all along.

Our foreheads rested on one another, leaning on each other for support. Lips eased, relaxing tenderly, but still in touch. The tips of our noses softly grazed against one another, so lightly it created the tiniest smile on the corners of my mouth. The warmth of his breath began to steady, mine following along. Shutting my eyes again, I held onto this moment so tight. We didn't part, still keeping in contact, never wanting that displeasing feeling to appear.

I was terrified that he would regret this precious moment between us. Everything inside me was trying to hold it together, desperately praying that I had nothing to worry about — that everything would be okay.

That maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of us.

"Essie," he whispered against my lips, wholly enchanted at the moment we were in.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach from the deep and husky sound of his voice. My nickname was so enticing with the way it left his mouth. It only made me want to forever hold onto it for as long as I could. The scent of his musky cologne lingered in the air surrounding us, encasing me with everything he had.

Flickering my eyes back open, I saw that his were still shut — he, too, taking in the moment between us. It was almost as if he was capturing every second we shared, never wanting it to end. His fingers were still dug into my waist, keeping me secure, and because of that, it gave me the smallest ounce of hope.

"Yeah?" I replied in the identical soft tone.

My heart began to beat quicker as his hands travelled up my body, cupping my cheeks. His eyelashes fluttered, revealing his vibrant green eyes to me. Both thumbs grazed along my skin, caressing it gently.

"Essie." Rich, smooth honey dripped from just saying my name.

"Tiger." The corners of my lips curled upwards slightly. My focus remained on his eyes, but I saw his own mouth do the same.

A tingling sensation sparked throughout my veins, down to the very tips of my toes, when he moved back in again, connecting the same way we'd done only minutes before.

Closing the tiny gap between us, he kissed me again, and this time was even softer than before. Harry needed to treasure this milestone, and I gave him everything he needed to do that.

I knew that this kiss meant so much more to him than it did to me — even though it was something I've dreamed about for days and nights on end.

There were still things he was keeping to himself, secrets that he wasn't ready to share with me yet. A part of me felt that there was so much to him than I already knew. I'd just scratched the surface that was Harry Styles.

One thing that I was sure of, though, was that he needed protection. He needed to be cared for — and know that it was honest on my end.

I would do that for him — and so much more.

The smallest whimper left him as we slowly parted once more — and again, he didn't leave my touch. We remained in our same spots, embracing each other with ultimate affection.

Skin — fire.

Eyes — desperate.

Lips — forever needing love and adoration.

"I don't want this to end." His words were so quiet, barely audible.

He felt like this was the unfinished road of happiness, blocked with an uneven pathway of dirt and gravel; but he was incredibly wrong.

This was just the beginning of something great — something so beautiful and powerful.

"I need you too, Harry," I spoke softly, assuring him that I wasn't going anywhere. I grasped hold of his tie, just slightly, so I could keep him close. There was no chance I was letting go of the man I loved — even if he didn't know that yet.

"You n-need me?" The question left his mouth as he quivered with doubt, fear, and a hint of curiosity.

"More than you could ever know."

"You mean it?" Those same feelings remained in his tone. Who hurt you, Tiger?

"With my entire heart."

"Serenity?"

"Yeah, Harry?"

"I really like you," he said, cheeks flushing in rouge.

"I really like you too," I replied, feeling the same heat rush to my own skin.

And in a matter of two weeks, this was the second time I've seen Harry with the widest smile on his face.

"You're smiling."

"I am."

"I don't want to be the reason for it. I want you to always be happy, Harry."

"I'm sorry..." he paused, seeming in deep thought. "...for everything hurtful I said to you. I didn't mean any of it. Fuck I said so many bad things. I was just so confused — and afraid."

"You know, it hurt even more because I like you." Because I love you — but it was so early for him to hear that. I needed to go at his pace and just hope that he'd eventually love me too.

"Saying it was the same."

"Forgive me, baby?"

"Baby, eh?" I teased, watching as pink tinted his cheeks.

"Um, yeah, well, I — I just —"

"I forgive you, pretty."

His brows furrowed. "I thought that was just my hair."

"That's true, why would I keep it to myself? But I mean, you are pretty."

"I'm a man. I can't be pretty."

"Bullshit. That's not an excuse. Men are handsome, gorgeous, beautiful, and pretty — and especially a man who happens to be you."

"You're swearing a lot lately. I really have rubbed off on you," he teased, squeezing my waist.

"It seems so. Oh my, what will I do?" I let out a small laugh.

"You can kiss me," he suggested with a smirk.

Taking my bottom lip between my teeth, I hummed softly. "Sounds tempting."

"Yeah?" He nudged his nose against mine, and I smiled.

"Absolutely," I replied just as I captured his lips between mine once again.

And that's the moment when I was finally able to melt in Harry's arms, diving into the deepest parts collecting treasures from the bottom of my heart. Platinum. Lustrous shells. Pearls. All of them combined would never measure up to the pureness of love I felt for the man with pretty hair.

Harry Styles was truly one of a kind.

...

A/N:

They kissed. They kissed. They kissed.
AHHHHHHHHH. I squealed. It finally happened.

What'd y'all think of the chapter? Because, you know, I'm super curious and all that. That second half made my heart all soft.

Now, the question is: boxers or briefs? fjkalsdfjaslk. I'm kidding. What do you think will happen next?

And pretty please press on that little star on the chapter, I mean, it only takes a millisecond. They're nice gifts and make me (and Essie) happy.

I also feel the need to say this...wash your hands, social distance, and STOP TAKING CORONA LIGHTLY. It's still serious ffs.  

Anyhoo. 

Kissy, stay golden, and TPWK my beautiful tulips 🌷

S x

P.S. I published that super short story that I wrote for my Mysteries and Thrillers course. It's up on my profile, it's called 'Melancholy Treasure.' Let me know what you think, and be super critical please and thanks. Also, I don't know if I should delete it after, so let me know what you think about that too. Thank you!