Hello lovelies!

So...I hope you still remember me.

I know it's been a while, but life's been quite hard for me lately. I desperately wish that I could post more often, but I just can't. We're also nearing the end of ED (cries) and maybe deep down inside I just don't want to let go of Essie and Tiger. Those two mean the world to me. Not sure what the real reason for my absence (probably both), but I do hope you forgive me.

The chapter song is literally Serenity...after her. Was it planned? Absolutely not, but I am very much here for it.

Also, please don't forget to vote and comment, because I love reading the little things you have to say.

So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy this one (it's a cutesy chapter), my darling rosy tulips 🌷

♬ ✥*

Serenity.

Busy.

That's how life has been for both Harry and me since my birthday.

Apparently, there was another major project that Harry wanted to snatch and call it under the many already under Urban Corp. I wasn't sure of all the logistical aspects of it, nor could I focus on the details, but he just said that it was an opportunity the company couldn't pass up. So many companies were bidding on it, and I knew that was something Harry had been talking about lately.

Numbers.

And those numbers had a lot of zeros after them.

He always made it seem like buying a building was like buying bananas from the store.

I could never comprehend what was considered simple for him when it was monumental for me.

Harry kissed my cheek when he saw that I was honestly mind-blown about certain things, he told me that I didn't need to overthink. It wasn't that he was belittling me or my knowledge for such great things, but I only focused on one business — and that was mine. I was perfectly fine with keeping it like that. Just like Starlight was my baby, Urban Corp. was Harry's.

But there was one other thing reeling in my mind ever since he brought it up: franchising.

Was I really ready for that?

Did I even want that?

How would I even know which location to instruct at?

Would they all be in the same city or elsewhere?

There were so many questions, and I couldn't stop thinking about them.

My thoughts were quickly noticed by Harry when he caught me staring off into space. I brushed him off whenever he'd ask, but I'd tell him it was nothing. 

In reality, everything was fine, but it also wasn't.

Now with all of the possible ideas that could be life-changing, it wasn't.

There was also the performance that was yet to happen.

I was also nervous about that.

Yes, some people had been to Starlight's re-opening, and I've danced nationally before, but this was different.

This was going to be in front of hundreds of people who Harry, the CEO of Urban Corp., has worked with. This was going to be a performance at a place where not everyone who enjoyed or understood dance would be — so it had to be a showstopper.

Of course, Harry always told me that my dancing and choreography was always a showstopper, but I couldn't find it in me to believe it this time.

Which led me to another story: to perform solo or to have a group performance? That was the question.

I thought about asking River for some suggestions or help, but I wanted to do this on my own. I wanted this to ultimately be a representation of what the owner and founder of Starlight Studio could do, to what the studio could offer. 

I'd spoken about the event to him, Mars, and my family. I wanted them by my side on such an important day. It was also the first time they would get to see something that wasn't in their element; a hosted gathering filled with hundreds of multimillionaires enjoying a night of fine liquor, high arts, and entertainment.

And entertainment there would be.

Harry mentioned that live music was usually played; a small orchestra that tends to fill the void for events like this. He did say that my performance could be classical or practically anything that could sound through the speakers. Basically, I had ultimate freedom.

But all of that still didn't answer my own question of if I should do it solo or have my students be a part of it.

For a few days, I just put the entire thought to the back of my mind, and tried not to think about it, hoping that some idea or sign would pop up.

However, I got nothing.

It was a mess.

I was a mess.

However, as time passed, I came to a decision — and one was better than none. I was standing in the kitchen, chopping up some vegetables, and then I stopped as the notion came to me.

I wanted the performance to be solo. I felt it was necessary to showcase my skills and talent and tell the world that I could teach little prodigies to do what I could do. I can get them to be successful and lead them toward the direction of professional dancing. 

I knew I was good, but I wasn't cocky about it. I had the blood, bruises, sweat, and tears to prove it. My achievements and recorded performances led me to where I am today. I wanted to be a role model, and that was exactly what I wanted to be.

The only problem was that inspiration wasn't hitting me, and it was ultimately frustrating.

And not spending constant downtime with Harry wasn't helping. He was practically married to his work, and I was trapped in my mind, a girl going through an emotional rough patch.

Today, however, was different and very unexpected. Harry didn't have any meetings or needed to work late, so he popped by the studio after my last lesson. He'd picked up some tea for me on his way to the Starlight and surprised me — of course, his drink was his favourite black. 

I missed him.

We sat in my office and sipped on our drinks together, catching up on our days. He was happy that things were finally coming together on the project he wanted — mainly because he got it. It was rough for a while to obtain because of the bidders on the table. Whenever Urban Corp. wanted something, it was as if the other companies had to have it as well. Almost everything that Harry wanted, he knew that the rest would know it was a clean investment, which is why things got so rough with others since they were desperate to have its name attached to it. It made me proud of him, knowing he continued to lead his company to greater success.

When I told him how I felt, his cheeks reddened, trying to hide the shy smile when he brought his coffee cup to take a sip.

He was cute.

After that, though, Harry suggested that I try out some different choreography steps and work something together. He thought that maybe with him there, I'd have better luck. Which was true in previous occasions. So we popped back out to the empty studio, and he let me be free. I noticed how he didn't sit over to the side, but rather on the piano bench.

I watched as he carefully lifted the fallboard and settled his fingers on the keys. His brows furrowed just before pressing against them, hearing music suddenly filling the room's soundless void. His brows were furrowed slightly, a delicate strand of hair fell over his forehead, and eyes were sealed shut as he played each note, feeling it vibrate in my veins. 

A small smile curled on my lips as I watched him for a moment before letting him be. Seeing him do one of the things he loved was always heartwarming. No matter the case, he put his soul into the instrument, and it showed.

So he played beautifully, and I danced — and danced, and danced.

My blue eyes pierced through me as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, catching my breath every chance I took. But even listening to Harry playing ivory and ebony, nothing was coming together. I wasn't happy with anything. The moves were there, but it was bland.

I was stuck.

So I took a break and sat down with my back against the wall of windows. My reflection was straight ahead in the mirrors, and I could see the evident sadness on my face as I flexed and pointed my feet. 

It wasn't until I let out a deep sigh, realising that a melody was no longer echoed between these walls, as Harry walked towards me, a little smirk playing on his pretty lips.

"Penny for your thoughts, my love?"

Harry stood ahead of me wearing white runners on his feet, shorts and a tee with some random doodle of a guy on the front that he'd once stored in my changing locker here for days out of the office. It was for days like today. 

Emerald gems were vibrant, a clear layer covered them, feeling the desire to change it up. But even in the aching clouds desperate to let down rain or snow, and miserable faces outside furious with the weather, his expression was still brighter than a summer's day. 

The front of his pretty brunette hair was pulled up in a small claw clip — one that he stole from the top of my dresser, and began calling it his. With that said, the little bit upwards was something that I loved calling a 'sprout.' Harry found it quite strange the first time I mentioned it, face scrunching up which caused a laugh to leave my lips. I also showed him the emoji that I felt best resembled it, and he looked at me blankly saying "I look like a plant to you?" 

That only caused me to laugh harder. 

To put it simply, he looked positively adorable.

But as he looked at me, I sighed and rubbed my hands over my face.

"I just need a good routine. I can't come up with anything."I let out a soft whine with a frustrated faux sob. "Why?"

When I glanced up at him, he smiled at me — I frowned.

"Don't give me that look, H. I don't have a lot of time, and I'm drowning in frustration, and you're smiling at me."

A chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head, then gave me a serious expression.

"I wouldn't dare smile at you, Es."

And broke my distressed feelings just a smidge.

"Besides, I never like to see you upset, sweetheart."

My lips pulled into a pout. "I hate being upset."

That's when another smirk pulled on the corner of his mouth.

"How about you include me in your dance?"

I raised a brow.

He had to be joking.

"Dude, what?" I deadpanned, and his nose scrunched at my word choice.

"I will disregard that title, Essie," he noted. "But come on. Look here."

Sighing, I kept my gaze on him as he went to grab his phone. A smile remained on his lips as he swiped on the screen, searching for something, and his expression widened as soon as the song was voiced through its speakers of the studio.

An orchestra sounded vividly and powerfully, and I knew that it was clear that the intent was for a waltz. String instruments were prominent, a soft piano in the background. I closed my eyes as I took in the music, and once I opened them, my jaw dropped just slightly.

There was Harry, moving around our studio, pretending to have a partner as he danced through the open space. A grin tugged at his mouth, yet opened in song to match the pitch, and while doing so, he held eye contact with me the entire time. An arm was extended out, his other hand pressed lightly against his chest. His steps were soft and light on his feet, with wide gaps between each step. They were precise, matching the music, even though there was pure humour holding onto his heart.

And his heart was currently something that I could see.

In those emerald gems I loved deeply, he also held onto another meaning — one of adding other elements.

But I decided to play along with him first.

Harry bent down in front of me with both arms in full extension, almost in a bow, a giggle escaped my lips at his action. I bit the corner of my mouth as he held his hands just inches away from me.

"Come on, baby love. Dance with me."

I shook my head, challenging him, and he raised a brow in realisation of what I was doing.

He didn't have any of it, though.

His hands reached further down to grasp my waist, and he threw me over his shoulder as he walked some steps towards the centre of the studio. I slapped his bum multiple times while telling him to put me down, but he just laughed and gave a little harsh tap on my behind while warning me. "Behave, Serenity."

The tone in his voice was stern enough to get me to stop.

I didn't exactly want to pay for it later.

Even though it was always fun.

Slowly, he set me down on my feet with a smile contrasting with how he'd just spoken to me. Innocent and pure, a literal angel.

And truth be told, he really was one.

Especially since he was in all white.

"Now, we're going to try this again," he said softly. "Dance with me, pretty girl. Show me what you've got."

That was a challenge in the sweetest way. It was no question, but a delicate demand. I knew what he was doing — and it was working.

My lips rolled in as my sapphire gems glimmered when I saw how he looked at me; with wholesome love, one that was desperate to start a spark of creativity in my feet.

Determined, I grasped his hand, and with a confident nod, he smoothly began with a lead for the dance. It was perfectly spontaneous, our steps matched with the beat of the music, and even once the tempo changed, each move uniquely altered to join along with it.

Unison.

It was all in exact harmony, with steps and instruments that played a beautiful song that ruptured passion in our hearts and souls. Lyrics that dug deep into our veins, a meaning so powerful that nothing could over dare let it tumble and fall.

Twirling, swirling, extensions, lifts, and an idyllic dip reminiscent of the first time we danced together. His glimmering emerald eyes gazed deeply into mine, sharing an intense look with his love and ardor for me—and one to tell me that I could do anything and everything.

Once he dipped me, he spoke those four words that had always resonated with me since the first time he said them, "I'd never drop you" and pressed his smooth lips against mine. He held me in his arms, a grip firm on me to ensure the words formed on his tongue.

Just like our steps, our mouths danced together, moving at a perfect pace that could take one's breath away.

Which was precisely what it did.

Parting for air, his lashes fluttered open, seeing those same beautiful eyes flicker between my own as I felt his hot breath against my skin.

"With moves like those, you can do anything, Essie. Sparkle, my starlight," he whispered before kissing my bottom lip.

When he pulled me up in a swift spin, I took over.

He let me lead, giving me the control to show me that I could truly do anything.

Our hands remained adjoined, touching skin to skin and fabric to fabric. Our moves were still in unison, but I created a choreography meant for one. He was my mirror, supporting me whenever I'd make a jump.

With him beside me, I got lost in my mind, selecting the perfect song to move along to. As I moved, I let the beat and tempo echo silently in my ears. Time was at a standstill, yet, it wasn't.

I hadn't realised I was smiling until my eyes settled on Harry's, gazing at me with a fond expression. His breath was just as heavy as mine from following my steps, but I shook my head and gave him a shy laugh.

"What?"

"Nothing. You just look stunning when you're dancing. Love seeing the passion on your face. Missed it. Missed experiencing it with you," he spoke softly, before leaning in for a delicate kiss.

His hands let go of mine, and he walked back to the wall. As he turned off the music that was playing, he looked up at me with that same tender face.

"Dance it again for me, pretty girl. Want to see the whole thing. Give me everything you've got," he said with a smile.

So I did.

Harry's lips parted as he watched me repeat the routine from beginning to end. It was silent in the room, only filled with light pants and soft taps against the floor. But it was deafening with emotion, a story being written, my body being the pen, the open space the paper.

His emerald gems read the novel from cover to cover, seeing an entire plot unfold in front of his eyes. A romance tale, bringing highs and lows, happiness and sadness, the details of a love story written from a female's perspective.

With the last lengthened extend of my arms, I stopped in the final movement. A breath was shared with mine, the same one from the man that I loved dearly. 

He knew what story it was.

Ours.

As my eyes met his, I couldn't grasp the sudden feeling of his body colliding against mine. Before I knew it, I felt the barre hit my lower back and his hands lifted my legs to wrap around his hips as he kissed me passionately. My breath was taken away by how urgent his movements were.

It was his turn to let his body tell me how much he loved me.

I felt it. I felt Harry all over.

I could only get a handful of words out, telling him to head to the changing rooms.

It was the only place where the security cameras weren't set up, and it was clear that Harry could not wait.

And frankly, neither could I.

So with frantic steps, he carried me where I told him, not daring to part his mouth from my own.

This time, he never spoke, only letting his body speak for him. His lips never let go of me. Whether it was my lips, neck, collarbone, cheeks, or shoulder, he was always pressing kisses against me.

The only time he let my feet touch the floor was when he pulled my leggings off, but I was quickly lifted up again after. He held me expertly as he guided us through everything, so determined to bring us to bliss—and he did. At that moment, I couldn't care less about myself, so as long as he declared his love physically; but he didn't dare to let that happen, pushing me off the side of the sensual cliff three times.

I loved every second of it, and I knew he did too. Doing that always drove himself on the erotic train, a passenger taking me with him. Not once had he ever left me hanging.

His mouth left me only when he rolled his head back, his neck vein so prominent as his lips parted, eyes shut tightly. His fingers dug deep into the bare skin of my hip, grounding me in place, while his right hand slammed against the lockers next to my head. He was so overcome with pleasure, and it was a sight for sore eyes.

As he regained his composure, he returned his lips to mine, whispering sweet nothings to me.

"Kissy."

"My God, you're incredible."

"Always so good to me."

"Sorry if I hurt you."

"Love you."

"My precious, Essie."

"Thank you."

Harry was so incredibly soft with me after that. He wouldn't leave my side, nearly glued to my hip—well, literally my hips until he left me—as he remained highly affectionate for the rest of the day.

After taking a quick shower and changing into warmer clothes, we left the studio not long after that. We both had dopey smiles on our faces, and Harry kept teasing me on how I'd only remember him every time I'd enter the changing rooms. I told him to stop.

But ultimately, he was right.

The way his loud groans of ecstasy that were echoed in the space was not exactly something I would ever want to forget.

We headed to the grocery store to grab some things since the fridge was near-empty. Harry usually complained about shopping with me, but with his need for affection, he didn't mind the additional time to wander around the aisles for unnecessary reasons.

He even pushed around the 'trolley' at times.

And then he told me to sit in it.

I called him crazy.

And well, I really was.

Because I sat on the bottom basket and let my feet dangle over the metal edge.

There was no doubt that we got some strange looks from other shoppers. Some kids laughed, some parents were shocked, a few couples were entertained, and elderly folk either had fond or disapproving expressions on their faces.

We were children.

We were also glad security was never called because two grown, mature adults acted silly in a grocery store.

Just everyday things.

"Don't mind us. Easiest way so she doesn't buy everything. Clever idea, no?" Harry spoke with a grin to one of the workers, whose mouth was a bit open as he was surprised by our actions.

Once we got home, with necessities—and otherwise—we put everything away, changed, and prepared some dinner. Luna greeted us with warm cuddles and attention as a reminder that she, too, wanted something to eat.

After we finished, we settled on the couch and searched for a movie to put on. I missed these soft moments between us; the times that let us relax in one another's arms without a care in the world; the times that were just filled with the love we shared for each other.

His arm was wrapped around me, pulling me closer so I could rest my head on his shoulder. A blanket was thrown over our legs stretched out ahead of us, feet rested over the coffee table. I snuggled further into Harry's hoodie, taking in the soft aroma of his cologne and a faint fresh scent from its recent wash. His free hand would lace his fingers between mine, fiddle with them, and tie them together again. I heard him hum along to Under the Sea as we watched Sebastian sing and orchestrate an underwater performance.

"Hey, baby?" Harry spoke lowly, and I hummed softly before he paused the movie.

I pushed slightly off of his shoulder so that I could face him.

"Yeah?"

"Can I—can—" My brows furrowed slightly.

"Can you what, H?" I whispered, noticing his struggle.

"Can I take you dress shopping? You know, for the gala." His cheeks flushed in pink, shy to have asked such a question.

"You want to buy me a dress? I thought it's just a small thing. I mean, I can wear anything, right?"

"I mean, small for a multimillion-dollar company, isn't that small, love. It's just for the small business owners, but like I said, hundreds of people are there. You can dress in whatever you'd like, if you want to. I just thought—never mind."

"Thought, what, pretty?"

He let out a puff of air. "I want you to stand out. I want to show you off, and I know we talked about this and everything, but I still want to. I want to spoil you. Can I do that?"

I smiled slightly at his intention.

To be completely honest, I didn't care. I could re-wear an outfit, and that was fine with me. But I could see the look in his eyes; he wanted to truly spoil me and do something nice, so who was I to deny him of something like that?

"Yeah, you can. I'd love that."

His emerald eyes sparkled as I gave him my response, and then he leaned down to Luna, who was perched on the cushion beside him.

"Your mumma's going to finally let me buy something for her."

"Not if it's expensive," I pointed out when he finally met my gaze again. He had a little glint in his eyes, and a smirk grew on his lips.

"You don't have a say in that, darling. You just okay'd it, so that's that."

And that really was that.

Without another word, he tucked me back under his arm and played the movie again as he continued his humming to the song previously playing.

♬ ✥*

It was a few days later that Harry told me to free an entire afternoon in my schedule—as he did the same. We'd parted in the morning, since he had a couple of important meetings to attend, and I had a class to instruct. He did pick me up as promised, promptly at noon, wanting to go to lunch together first.

So, with his entire plan to spoil me, he took me to a high-class Michelin-star restaurant. He seemed pretty pleased with himself that he was getting to do what he wanted, constantly flashing me his charming smile.

Everything about it reminded me of our first date together; he dipped me into a world surrounded by ultimate wealth and riches. He was also amused with how I felt so out of place since he was relatively in a suit, and me in casual clothes.

Harry never told me to dress up prettier.

And it was still cold outside. He could bite me.

When I told him that, an excited glimmer sparkled in his eyes when he smirked and simply said, "Gladly."

I regretted it immediately. I knew that would be his response.

Then he just said it didn't matter what I wore, I still looked beautiful.

That made me blush.

Once we were done, we hit the expensive boutiques and designer stores that I could only afford if I sold a kidney. I told him to take a little trip to the mall, that maybe I could just find something from a regular, but he wouldn't have it.

We entered several stores, and each didn't have something I truly liked. Harry could see how I eyed many pieces and cringed whenever I asked what the dollar amount was. He stayed silent, though. He even picked out a few things for me, some of which seemed nice, but after trying them on, they were a no. But I also knew that even if there was a dress Harry wasn't fond of, he'd still buy it without a question or opinion.

Nonetheless, I still couldn't find a single dress that I liked.

The sun was setting, and it was frustrating me that wasted time was just going by. Harry just kept telling me that there had to be something somewhere for me.

"Baby, it's alright. You'll find something. Not going to stop until I buy the dress of your dreams."

One store after another, with one dress trial after another, and all of it was a complete failure. I could only imagine how stressful it would be to buy a wedding dress.

Wait a second. A what now?

I wasn't engaged.

Sure Harry made it blatantly clear that he wanted to marry me — and I wasn't complaining. I wouldn't love anything more than to marry the man I loved. It did surprise me that he still wanted to get married after everything he went through with his ex.

I obviously I wasn't her, and Harry surely wasn't the same man he was with her. He's grown so much over these months and I'm so proud of how emotionally and physically confident he's become.

I would never stop hating on that woman until the day I die—an emotionally destructive bitch.

"Petal?"

Shaking my head, I glanced at Harry, who was peering at me with a worried expression.

"You alright? Been calling your name for a while now."

"Sorry. Just got lost in my head." I smiled. "What were you telling me?"

"I have one last place to give it a shot before we call it a night. I've bought a lot of suits from them before and I was always impressed with their clothing variety. What do you say? Still up to try one more?" Harry spoke.

"I guess, sure. Might as well." A sigh left my lips as we buckled our seat belts. "Is it far?"

He shook his head. "No, about ten minutes or so. Then we'll go for dinner if you'd like."

"I'd love that. It's been hours, and I'm almost hungry again."

"Alright, love. That's you and me both," Harry said with a smile, leaning in to give me a peck.

Driving through the streets of Vancouver, I kept looking over at Harry as he steered through them, drumming his fingertips on the steering wheel to the beat of a song playing in the background. He was so confident with everything and even so optimistic that I would find something to wear that would make me happy.

I loved that about him.

When he caught me looking, a shy pink rushed to his cheeks, but he simply reached over to grab my hand and place a kiss on the back of it.

True to his word, it was around ten minutes when we pulled up to a strip centre, several stores lined up next to one another. But one of them stood out the most, and you were sure that it was the one you'd set foot in just in a moment's time.

Givenchy.

"Let's go, baby," Harry said, after shutting off the ignition and popping out of the vehicle.

I followed him with a sigh, watching as he met me as I got out, and his fingers laced through mine as I shut the door.

The two of us passed through the door, and like every other designer store I'd been in today, I was in shock. Everything was beautiful, so rich in opulence and class. Suits, gowns, everyday wear, accessories, all of it was stunning.

But I knew that I couldn't take my time going through everything.

Especially since I knew that if I did, and Harry noticed I liked something, that item would already be paid for and sitting in the trunk of his SUV.

So, I refrained from doing so.

We were greeted by two saleswomen, each with a brief 'hello.' I saw both of them draw their gaze towards Harry, but he paid no attention to them other than addressing a reply. It was clear that they found him attractive, no doubt about it.

He trailed me as I walked through the store, glancing only where the gowns were, but then, a dress caught my attention on a mannequin—a beautiful black dress. Chiffon, a single puffed long-sleeve, all in tulle as it cascaded down the length of the skirt, a slit running high up the left side. It was gorgeous.

I never expected to like black. That was what Harry always wore; his previous monochrome persona, whereas I was always in colour. So to be in a position where he stood next to me in a muted baby blue suit, a vibrant button-down of the same hue, with spotless ebony loafers, was simply unique. At this moment, our minds were polar opposites.

My eyes were focused on the dress, and it only took a familiar voice to speak up as he watched me.

"She'll try this one on," Harry said to one of the saleswomen nearby, as he placed a hand on the small of my back.

Seeming a little nervous by his demeanour, the lady walked up to us. "Sir, it's a one-of-a-kind gown from the runway of the newest collection. It's not for sale and just a display piece."

"My girlfriend will try that dress on, and if she likes it, you will put a price tag on it," Harry said firmly.

I knew that there was no negotiating by the tone of his voice.

"But—"

Harry chuckled deeply.

And that shut her up quickly.

"No, I don't think you understand nor know who I am, miss. So while you figure that out, she will try that dress on. I'm not asking, and I won't repeat myself again," he snapped — warmly.

I didn't exactly know how those two went together, but with Harry, they always somehow did.

Anyone might've missed how the lady looked at me, but I didn't; she was clearly unimpressed with my appearance. Grey-washed flared jeans, white runners, and a matching toned sweater with my hair pulled back in a flower clip — a pink tulip that Harry stumbled across that he couldn't resist buying for me. It was far from what someone would wear walking into a prestigious store like this. The only thing that refrained her from saying anything was that Harry was in a pristine posh suit next to me.

But there was one thing that was clearly recognisable, and something she couldn't miss — his suit was the same name.

The dress truly was the only one, so the woman carefully removed it from the mannequin. My gaze turned towards Harry, who gave me a reassuring smile as he gave me a gentle push towards the back of the boutique.

As we walked into the open room, the gown was hung on a hook, and I was left to be. Just as I was closing the heavy drapery into the separate cubicle, I saw the same woman on the phone speaking to someone with her eyes set on Harry.

It seemed to me that she was doing exactly what he'd said — finding out who he actually was.

Thankfully, it wasn't a struggle to get the dress on myself and not trip or get tangled somehow. Knowing my clumsy self, I was just careful enough so that I wouldn't accidentally rip it, or snag the fabric through the zipper.

With a heavy breath, I pulled back the curtain and saw Harry leaning back on a small loveseat. His legs were spread, and his arms reached against the high edges as he waited for me to appear. And the second his eyes landed on me, his lips parted, and blinking ceased to exist. I swore that I saw his chest freeze for a second.

"Baby..." he mumbled quietly under his breath.

Anyone could've missed the way there was a subtle undertone of darkness in his tone, but it was mainly in awe.

His eyes did more than a few takes as his sight processed in his mind. He stayed in spot for a moment, straightening in his seat, barely at the edge of it.

"Stunning—you look fucking stunning," he said lowly, causing a blush on my cheeks.

Slowly, he stood and walked towards me, his green gems narrowed on me, never failing to look away.

"Yeah? You think so?" I replied, biting my bottom lip before looking at myself in the mirror. My hands skimmed along the smooth fabric, and I smiled. "I like this one."

"Turn for me, Es," he said, and I obliged, doing a little spin.

Once I faced him again, he placed his hands on my hips and leaned into me to say something.

"Fits you perfectly. It's like it was made for you." His words were quiet as he spoke. "You like this one?"

I bit my bottom lip as I looked at him. I felt shame that I was in love with a designer gown, one that I knew would be incredibly expensive. "I really do."

"Then it's yours."

"Oh, no. Harry, this is going to cost a fortune. She said it's off the runway. We can find something else. We haven't checked Mars' shoppe. I'm sure I'll find something there. She always saves me. It'll—"

"Nah, ah, ah," he tutted me with a smirk. "Now tell me, love, since when has money been a concern for us?"

He was good, but I was determined to try and win this conversation.

"That would be no concern for you, Mr CEO," I clarified. "Remember, we just have a minor business partnership."

At that, he raised a brow. "Oh?"

"Yes, oh."

"Minor, you say? Alright. We'll see about that," he said with a single nod, bringing his fingers up to brush his chin.

There was something behind those words and the little glint in his eyes.

But it was something that I couldn't decipher.

Rolling my lips in, I shook my head and smiled at myself in the mirror. With another glance, Harry matched my expression, with no sight of his teasing antics anywhere.

Harry's eyes studied my face, resting a hand on my hip as he cupped my cheek, gently caressing my jaw with his thumb.

"Sweetheart, do you love this dress?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Miss?" Harry called the same lady who had talked back to him earlier. He got her attention as she nodded and hung up with the mystery person. "Wrap this one up for me."

With an embarrassed flush on her face, she cleared her throat. "Of course, Mr Styles. I apologise for earlier. I just started working here. I'm sorry."

"Please, next time, check who your clientele are before telling them no," he replied firmly, and she nodded.

Of course, he then whispered, just loud enough for me to hear him, "She should be fucking sorry."

I bit my lip to hide a grin.

"Go on, baby. Get changed so we can grab some dinner," he said before placing a kiss on my forehead.

"Surprised you never asked to help me take it off," I teased as I walked back towards the changing room.

"Essie..." he warned with a rough voice. "...don't tempt me."

I gave a smug grin as I closed the drapes once more, hearing him groan slightly.

Changing out of the beautiful dress, I got back into my casual attire.

And once I saw Harry again, he raised an arm to let me go in front of him — for two reasons only.

To give my bum a firm squeeze and a light tap.

Looking over my shoulder, he flashed me the most innocent smile; one would swear he was an angel.

"Harry," I warned.

He shrugged. "What? I didn't do a thing."

"We're in public."

"Didn't seem to mind when we were on that plane."

"Harry!" I gasped a little louder than necessary and got a couple of stares.

He just grinned.

"I hate you. You know that?"

"Love you too, baby," Harry said with a smile, placing a kiss on my temple as we waited for the gown to be wrapped up.

I shoved him lightly before wrapping my hand around his bicep, clinging to my favourite — yet very difficult — man.

♬ ✥*

The two of us were beyond exhausted from the long day we shared. My arm was wrapped around his waist, head lightly resting on his chest with a leg curled over his. We were in the comfiest position and simply my favourite.

After our successful trip to Givenchy, he drove us to a restaurant he used to occasionally get takeout from. I asked if it was the same one that gave him food poisoning all those months ago, and he chuckled while shaking his head.

"I gave that restaurant a one-star rating on Yelp," he'd said.

It was easy to say that I burst into laughter, watching his eyes crinkle because of his bright smile.

Once we got home, we changed into comfier clothes and watched a Disney movie. Of course, he'd first hung up my new dress, telling me that it couldn't have any creases.

I didn't know the first thing about couture, but I just guessed that a regular home iron or steamer wouldn't exactly work for me.

Plus, I didn't want to ruin it, so I left it to his expertise.

He chuckled, though, telling me it was "common sense."

I told him that I didn't have any.

Harry simply kissed my cheek and ushered me to get changed while he fed Luna, who was curling around his leg whenever he moved.

She really did love him more than me.

I called her a traitor.

Harry laughed, and Luna meowed — in obvious agreement.

I ended up listening to him and did what I needed to do. And about an hour later, we settled the way we both loved doing at the end of the day. Silence encompassed us, and it was perfection, never letting comfort fade.

"Tell me something," I whispered softly, his fingers caressing my hair.

Harry stayed quiet for a moment, his touch freezing against my scalp. "I—um, I don't know if you noticed that I said something today that I never said before."

I knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Girlfriend," I spoke, and Harry hesitantly nodded.

"Don't really know how it came out," he said, "It just...did."

"How did it feel? You know, saying it?"

"It felt..." he paused. "...I don't know. Not necessarily good, but not bad either. All I can think of is Madison when it comes to it. But not when it comes to you. When someone asks me about you, or when you're with me, it's like, who's Serenity? Oh, she's my—my what? You know I fucking hate labels, but I can't explain it in any other way. My girl? My lover? My everything? You're my Essie, and that's how I see it — that's how my heart knows it."

Harry stopped again, letting out a huff, running a hand over his face. I gently pressed my thumb against that same hand to calm him down. I stayed silent, letting him continue expressing his thoughts and feelings.

"No one will understand that, and I don't want to explain myself. People ask questions, and I don't want them in my business. They didn't know a thing about me before you came into my life. People saw me as a Styles, but nonetheless, a hardworking CEO who cares about his employees — even with my short temper — and a man who hates mistakes. The man who never wore colour and was always professional that way. The man no one knew had shit eyesight because he only wore contacts.

"But with you, it all changed. People know those things about me. They know I'm kind deep down inside. They know I need glasses to see better. They see how colour seems to have brought out the best in me. Fuck, I even have flowers on my floor. Anyone who comes to see me can see them. What kind of CEO likes flowers in a professional setting?"

"One with a loving heart," I commented quietly with a smile.

"See, you know exactly what to say. And I'm, well — fucked."

"There's nothing wrong with that," I hinted cheekily to help break the tension.

Harry looked down at me to see the little grin tugging on my lips, and he rolled his own in.

"Cute, Es," he replied with a slight chuckle.

"But you're not that, Harry. You know what to say and how to get people to understand. I know you're a private person, but them knowing those things is okay. There's nothing wrong with that. Remember that they don't understand why you're like that and the things deep down inside. They don't know who you are as a person, the Harry you are behind closed doors. Sure, you have bad eyesight, wear colours, and find flowers pleasing and beautiful. But you're professional in your work, first and foremost. That's all they really need to know.

"Plus, Urban Corp. didn't become successful from those things about you. You're hardworking, intelligent, headstrong, honest, and incredibly fair. You don't like wronging people, and you make sure you get things down in the best way. Nothing changed from before and after. To what they saw I'd say in their eyes would be 'cosmetic' or just 'physically,' and there was no difference, only a man who took a million-dollar company to a billion-dollar one," I said, but heard him lightly as he corrected me.

"Multibillion-dollar, but who's counting?" 

I smiled slightly, but I gently brought my thumb to smooth over his bottom lip, to which he placed a kiss upon the tip just as I cupped his cheek.

"As for labels, I know you don't like using that term, and the reason why. They don't. To them, that's just the standard word to explain who you are to another person. You're not constantly telling people who I am to you. It's only when you introduce me — which isn't often.

"Remember, Tiger, you're in charge of what you tell people," I spoke softly, then smiled. "I don't know how many times I've told you this, but I'll keep repeating it every single time.

"Okay..." He nodded once, trailing off with his single word. "I just wish people didn't care."

"You can't wish that, H. If no one cared, we'd live in a world of disaster. Some people are nosy, and we can ignore them or find ways to avoid giving them a direct answer. All they love is gossip for the sake of not talking about themselves. It's the way they avoid revealing things about their lives," I said.

Harry's brows furrowed and pursed his lips whilst tilting his head to the side.

"Fuck. I never thought about that."

"Bingo, pretty." I smiled.

He sucked his lips, rolling them inwards. "So...I can call you my girlfriend? When need be, that is."

"You can call me whatever you want, Harry," I answered softly.

And then a cheeky grin flashed on his face — one I knew far too well.

"So you mean I can tell them you're my filthy wh—"

"Harry Styles! If you dare say that in public, I will call your mother," I exclaimed with an appalled expression.

The bugger simply smirked.

"Oh, really? And what're you going to tell her? I want to introduce you with the dirty names I call you in bed. The ones when you're my good —"

"Right then. Enough of that," I said, scrambling on his lap and slapping my hand over his mouth.

To which he immediately licked my palm.

My eyes narrowed down on him, and I felt him grin under my hold as he looked at me.

"Nice try."

That's when he pouted under my grip when I didn't let go. He squirmed a bit, trying to wiggle away, but then he suddenly stopped.

Harry's expression dropped as it filled with utter realisation of something.

Concern washed over my features as I dropped my hand, looking over his face.

"You okay, pretty?" My fingers trailed over his hairline, pushing back some strands that fell to his forehead.

"W-what?" Harry said, shaking his head as if he were in a trance. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just— you said mother, and I didn't correct you. Didn't even notice how natural it sounded coming from you. I mean, I've said it before, but in different situations, but now, it just felt...right. Like I truly believe it."

It was something I noticed, but didn't mention it.

"Sorry. I just—"

"No, it's fine." He smiled. "Think my mind just settled on it."

"On what?"

"She isn't just Valentina. She's my mother," Harry spoke in disbelief. "She's my mum. Fuck. I have a mum."

"Yeah, Tiger. You have a mom," I said softly, and his smile widened.

"Mum, Essie. It's mum, as in m-u-m. Not m-o-m," he corrected — falsely.

I huffed. "Don't throw your incorrect spelling at me, British Boy."

"I'm English, darling. Maybe you should've taken an English course at university. Freshened up on the language." He smirked.

"Yeah, and they would've told me the same thing. M-o-m. You're in Canada, not England," I said, "You're the one that went to university here and took an English course. You should know better."

"Oh, sod off, Es," he scoffed with a tight smile, settling his hands on my hips.

"I should really take that citizenship away from you."

"Watch it, Serenity."

"Watch what, Harry?" I grinned.

"You've gotten bold," Harry replied, a brow quirked.

"I learned from the master."

He hummed, sucking in his lips, as he lightly pointed a finger at me. "Touché, sweetheart. You're my smart girl, though. Aren't you?" Harry smiled, cupping my cheek. "My smart, good girl."

He just knew how to have me wrapped around his fingers.

Or otherwise.

"Harry?"

"Yes, darling?" He hummed, taunting me.

"Shut up and kiss me."

A pleased smile overtook his lips, a warm expression tainted his face.

"With pleasure, baby love."

And with that, his mouth was on mine before I could take a second glance. He kissed me tenderly, yet passionately, in the way we both loved dearly.

"You know, something?" Harry said, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs gently. His touch was indescribable, and always felt like a teddy bear wrapped in a warm blanket.

"Hmm?"

A delicate smile tugged at his petal lips, and emerald gems sparkled in joy.

"I love you."

"As do I, Tiger. As do I."

...

A/N:

So...Serenity finally has her dance routine set. Their love story is absolute perfection (Harry sees that as well). And yes, once I saw that clip of him dancing, I most certainly needed to incorporate it. I thought it fit. 

And now...Harry has a MUM!

Harry also took Essie shopping, that was super fun. His dominance is something that I've enjoyed writing. I'm not sure if certain readers have noticed, I have gone back to re-read the earlier chapters, and the character development for that man is *chef's kiss* if I'm honest.

Continuing to my fave part, so what did y'all dig the chapter? What was your favourite part and all? Y'know me and my curious self.

But now...what's next? Well, the gala. What do you think will happen? And then...after that?

And ooh, 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...and Tiger) happy.

Kissy, stay golden, and always TPWK my beautiful tulips 🌷

S x

P.S. Yes, I made that Essie edit. I thought it was quite well.

P.P.S. If you don't know, I have a one shot book up! It's called Sweet Lovin' and I have three published in it so far, and here's a little description of both of them. Check those out if you'd like.

This is the most recent one. 

Berry, Harry, and a Bottle of Wine.

The one where Harry and Mulberry have a fight near Christmas and they both have a love for wine.

Vibe and such? Christmas time, the holidays, and specialty wine. Drama and a bit more of it. Love and loving, but will it last? And not to forget adorable and precious Rosette, the cat. All of this in well...1982.