[HARRY STYLES]
London, England

★ ★ ★

To really understand how much things had changed for Harry, he would've needed a professional's outside point of view. Of that much, he felt entirely certain.

In the time that he'd gotten to know Astrid Reese, it strangely felt like his life finally made sense. Once more, to explain it, he would've needed to seek someone who understood the human mind better than he did. In all his thirty-eight years, he never truly thought he would find someone who could have such influence on him, and sometimes, he still questioned it.

Scratch that.

The only times he ever questioned it had been the odd occasions when he was away from the woman. The brown haired, brown eyes, sharped-tongued woman, who now looked around the hospital canteen with those doe-eyes of hers in search for him.

Harry took a moment to stay hidden between those around him, and smiled as he got lost in the sight of her. Something wild rushed through his chest as he settled his gaze on her sophisticated appearance, the no-colour-cream-nude nonsense that she completely pulled off. He realised it had been an awfully long time since he found anyone sexy in work attire, though he couldn't complain. Not really, when all he ever wore were scrubs.

The smile stuck on his face started to hurt, perhaps the only reason he noticed his own facial expression. Next, it had been Astrid who caught him, and practically hopped over to him with what he supposed to be a similar look on her face that he wore.

One moment he stood alone, the next he felt the leather bag she carried touch his back. Sweetness filled his nose from the perfume she wore, and never seemed to fade, as he nestled his face against her shoulder. A soft exhale brushed his ear then sped up the race of his heart, his back slightly bent as he leaned forward to hold on to her. Unable to move the muscles in his cheeks, he grinned and tightened his arms around her waist, warmth surrounding his hands as he tucked them beneath her trench coat, their bodies closer than he imagined possible.

Coldness licked up against Harry's front when Astrid pulled away from him. When he saw her rosy cheeks, he chuckled and couldn't resist the urge to reach out and swipe his thumbs over her skin.

It didn't pass by him when she checked him out. How could it? His entire being lit on fire, and he may as well have burned alive. He certainly wouldn't have minded. Not as long as it happened by her hand.

What managed to take his breath away had to be the moment she stuck her index finger between the band of his scrub bottoms and his skin, then tugged on the material. Their eyes locked and she said, "I think you may have to wear these around me more often."

Harry laughed, then. His head buckled back but he held onto her waist and when he righted himself again, he absolutely leaned in and kissed her once... twice... only soft pecks to taste her and gods damn him. That was his addiction. Her body flush against his. Those lips of hers. Always soft. Always warm. Always tasting of some sort of flavoured lip balm.

"I'm serious," she grinned up at him like he brought the stars down from the sky for her, and he realised he would've done it. If Astrid asked him, he would've gone to NASA, or whoever could provide him with the necessary equipment, and brought every single one of those goddamn things back for her.

Did that make him a fool? Absolutely. But Harry knew it. Oh, he'd been painfully aware of how much he found himself on his knees for this woman. Falling without warnings, alright. Perhaps he should've fought it. Deterred it from his path. It didn't make sense to do that, not to him.

He had nothing to lose but very clearly, everything to gain.

Harry simply shook his head at her comment, then slipped his arm around her waist. Rarely, if ever, did he spend his lunch break at the canteen.

"C'mon, let me get you a cheeseburger while you tell me about what happened," he pulled her to him a little more, and kissed her temple. Maybe he imagined it but Astrid leaned into the gesture and once more, she exhaled softly.

Astrid groaned and gripped her bag before she slid it towards the crook of her elbow. "It made me realty angry but I do realise now that I was overreacting when I texted you."

"That's how it goes with most things," Harry commented. They walked through the sliding doors, and a sudden wave of wind brushed his hair backwards.

"Probably true," she sighed and moved her upper body slightly, only to curl her arm under Harry's then place the other one on his forearm. As though it was second nature, Harry straightened and his chest puffed out slightly. He bent his right arm and she leaned against his shoulder. "I hate arguing with Sofia."

"I'm sure you will figure it out."

She snorted and looked up again. "I know. But she was sort of right, you know? I don't like having to swallow my pride. Not even for her."

That statement made Harry chuckle and wonder what could've gone down between them. Curiosity rooted itself deeply in his stomach but he refused to ask if she didn't open up. In all honesty, Harry couldn't see where the line was drawn between them. He didn't know what could be his business or when to stay away from it.

Of course, he could always ask and stop the doubt in his mind from evolving but perhaps this wasn't the right time.

They crossed the road then walked down the couple of steps and Harry pulled the door open for them. Astrid walked in first, and Harry didn't think much past the food he was going to inhale soon. That's why it surprised him when Astrid came to a halt stop—the fast-food restaurant was filled with doctors. All wearing scrubs, or if not scrubs, then at least their white coats. Absolutely not professional but what could they do? This was one of the hotspots for lunch time.

She quickly recovered and made her way forward to order, a woman on a mission. Something about that thought caused him to chuckle and his eyes soaked in the sight of her between all those similarly dressed people.

The casual yet so professional look on her was doing him in. It did from the first moment he had the chance to see it. But today, in that instance... it pulled him under.

The perfect length of her trousers and the way the material clung to her thighs then flared slightly, only to end above her ankles. At some point, she shrugged off her coat and draped it over her arm, bag hidden beneath, and it gave way to her defined backside that he itched to slap and have between his hands. And, because he simply couldn't keep his wandering, admiring eyes away from her, when she turned back to call him forward, his eyes immediately took in the round perfectness of her chest, the way that turtleneck sucked itself to her skin and left nothing to his imagination.

Completely unbelievable to him, but he managed to make it forward. The girl behind the register smiled at him and called him by his name, further proving just how often he found himself at the restaurant on his lunch. Thankfully for his well-being, they did all kinds of foods, not just burgers, so it made sense to come here.

Trays in their hands, Harry manoeuvred them through the tables to an empty spot towards the left of the establishment, right by the window. Instantly, he spotted the relieved smile on Astrid's face, the silent gratefulness for seating them outside of the crowd like this. If he'd learned one thing through the few coffee dates they had, the times they sat in anywhere, really, was that she preferred to be on the outside. Almost as if she needed to oversee everything, perhaps a way to take control of a situation, so nothing would surprise her.

"Hey," she nudged his knee with her own, their legs surprisingly close together beneath the table. They sat across from each other, Astrid's bag to his left and in front of the window. His eyes shifted and he noted the dusk toned coat she wore was draped over the back of the leather booth. "You look like you killed someone."

"Umm."

Astrid's eyes widened and her hand froze mid-air, a singular fried potato between her thumb, and middle and index fingers. "You didn't, did you?"

"Of course, not," he shook his head while he reached for his Sprite and took a sip through the straw. "I was thinking."

She popped a few fries in her mouth, chewed them, then asked, "About?"

Harry exhaled. Looked at her. Then admitted, "You."

"Well, duh," she gave him a playful look, taking the mick out of what he said, like she didn't believe it was worth for him to spend his thoughts on her. Little did she know she moved inside his mind a while ago now and refused to leave. "Everyone thinks about me."

"That certainly doesn't surprise me," he responded, his lips curling upwards.

"And? What conclusion did you come to?" she asked.

Harry didn't know he ever answered faster. "That you are cautious. Protective. Like to have control over your surroundings."

"Damn," she laughed, nodding. "Am I that easy to read?"

The surgeon shrugged and went in for a bite of his burger. "I honestly—no."

"What does that mean?" she raised her eyebrows curiously.

"I have to know how to read people. As a... surgeon, I need to know when—,"

"Why can't you talk about your job to me?" she asked. The question was sudden. Quiet. Maybe not even Astrid expected to hear it come from her mouth. If the slight widening of her eyes was any tell, he noted it. "From the moment we met, you struggled to articulate anything about it. And it doesn't make a difference to me—whether you talk about it or you keep it to yourself—but it just made me wonder."

Did he do that? Did he struggle to talk about it?

Harry thought... actually, he didn't know what he thought.

"I'm... sorry," he said. Was he sorry? Until now, he didn't pay attention to how he approached his job in conversations. If it were up to him, he never would've told anyone what he did, and not because he was ashamed or anything possibly relative to that.

"Why are you apologising?" she chuckled lightly. Harry didn't know. He shrugged. "You don't need to apologise. I just thought it was curious because I kind of expected you to flaunt it."

He hummed to himself as the ghost of a smile touched his lips.

"Then," she exhaled as she went on. "I thought, what if you don't talk about it because it makes you uncomfortable to discuss? Not because it has to do with ego, I think your ego is very healthy," she grinned at him and Harry's ears tingled. "But... I don't know. Tell me if I'm making things up but did people make you feel like that's all you'll ever be? A surgeon? Someone they can, I don't know—use? For your name. And money?"

Harry smiled again. This time because he felt incredibly transparent. Silly, too. In a strange sense. To hear his thoughts being spoken by the woman he wanted more than air made him feel like he curled out of his body and watched himself as nothing more than a spirit.

"I—," he chuckled, and shook his head. His back touched the leather booth and his hands spread over his thighs. He hadn't realised his palms became slick with sweat until then. "Okay, here goes nothing," he cleared his throat. Honesty is the best policy, right?

"Wait—you don't need to tell me," she stopped him, one of her perfectly manicured hands on top of the table. The gold rings she wore clinked against the surface between them, and skin of the back of her hand had a soft glow to it. "I know I asked but that's me not thinking before speaking. If you don't feel comfortable, please tell me to shut the fuck up."

"I want to tell you," he confirmed. When it came to her, there was nothing he wished to keep hidden. The urge to be an open book before her started to overtake his every thought and while it was dangerous, he felt more attracted to it than he ever thought possible.

"Okay," she pulled her hand back and picked up her burger. "Tell me."

Where to start, where to start, where to start.

"I... hm," the sound that came from his throat was somewhere between a muffled laugh and a clear of his throat. "The woman I loved, uh, used to care very much for my appearance. Image, I guess you could say."

"Oh, god," she whispered. Harry's eyes shot up to her face and he saw the terror etched onto her perfect features. "I didn't mean to press because I want you to, like, show me off and stuff. I didn't—,"

"Hey," he nudged her knee beneath the table. She stopped her rambling immediately. It made him smile softly and he said, "I know, honey. I knew it from the moment I took you on that date to LaRue's."

"Shit," she gaped. "You took me there because you thought I'd want that?"

Harry gave a little shrug. Embarrassment filled him. Astrid took a bite of her burger so he said, "I didn't want to propose something that wouldn't live up to... my image. And I know I could've changed locations after you expressed your thoughts on the place, but I didn't because... well, because I didn't know if you would think of me differently."

Just as his eyes moved back to her face, Harry caught Astrid's mouth turn into a frown. Eyebrows pinched. So many emotions rushed across her face, perhaps even more inside of her, that it managed to overwhelm him.

"Anyway," he sighed, the word enough to brush the weight from his shoulders. Harry didn't talk about those years of his life for he still struggled with it sometimes. "Maybe, I was blinded by my love for her, I don't know, but I never really paid attention to the way she cushioned her life with me. I didn't care, I think, because I loved her, you know? If giving my name out meant she was happy, I went with it."

That was true. All of it. Harry wanted to make her happy because he planned a lifetime with her.

"She built herself a life—found friends, links to the industry she always wanted to break but never quite could," he continued, his stare now zoned out as the thoughts overwhelmed him. Emptiness filled his chest, which made no sense in reality but he felt it. "I loved her, and I did everything for her because of it. What I had to find in the end, she never truly felt the same. Not for me, that is," he added quickly. "She fell for what I could offer her. She fell for my name and what it stood for amongst people. I suppose I could've stopped it but I didn't see past my feelings."

"That's not your fault, though," she argued. Perhaps. Harry didn't say anything but took a sip of his Sprite. "Okay, maybe you could've stopped it," she said while she dunked her chips into the barbecue sauce rather passionately. "But how were you supposed to know she wanted something else? How were you supposed to see past the image she painted for you?" she questioned, her voice now a little louder, a little more emotional.

Something about it hinted that she no long spoke with him in mind.

"It wasn't your fault that you couldn't see into her head, and it certainly doesn't make you a bad person for not figuring it out, or expecting it because no one expects to be hurt by the one they love, and the one who supposedly loves them," Astrid picked up again. "It's not surprising that you are careful with what you share, and who you share it with, and I think it's admirable that you're still standing after being crushed to pieces."

"Astrid."

"Hm?"

"Is everything okay?"

She laughed. Shook her head. "No," she replied. "Nothing is okay."

Harry frowned as he lifted himself from his seat and perched on the edge of her booth. His hand gripped the back of the furniture and he gently touched her chin, his index finger flat against her warm skin as he turned her head towards his.

Tears shone in those bright eyes. Tears that wrought havoc in his chest.

"What the hell happened? Talk to me, honey," he begged and reached for her hand. He intertwined their fingers and kept them on his leg, the other hand turned until his knuckles ran down her left cheek, then his palm cupped her right cheek. "Does it have anything to do with your fight with Sofia?"

Astrid sniffled and pulled away from his touch. Both hands now felt empty and cold, his heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach. The one thing he didn't expect, happened, and it pained him. So much so that it felt like his chest caved in.

"Astrid," he said gently. The quiver of her chin sent him over the edge. Why did he ever open his goddamn mouth? "Was it something I said? Can I—,"

"Stop," she breathed. "Stop talking," she repeated, and inhaled deeply. Elbows propped on the table. The heels of her palms pressed into her forehead. A second went by.

Another.

Three down the line and she straightened up. Inhaled deeply. When her eyes turned to his, it felt like all the air had been sucked right out of his lungs. Those doe-eyes of hers now looked worn, and tired, red-rimmed, and tear streaked. He couldn't stop his heart from the dangerous leap it performed.

"I'm sorry," she apologised. New tears started to well in her gaze and he fought his hands to stay away from her. "You didn't do anything wrong. I asked. You answered. I reacted out of order, and if it scared you, I truly am sorry. Please forgive me?"

The brokenness in her voice, in her stare, in her posture. Every part of her screamed for him, so he leaned forward, his arms wide around her, and she landed against him.

Harry's heart settled as soon as her head collided with his shoulder and collarbones, the familiar smell of her shampoo now in his nose, in his mouth, all over him. His arms tightened around her body and he sighed in relief, in the middle of the restaurant, with no one but colleagues around.

Someone hurt her as badly as he'd been hurt and he found it iconic that their solace resided in each other.

"I forgive you, beautiful. Of course, I forgive you," he sighed as he leaned his cheek on the crown of her head. He pulled back, only to kiss her head, then moved his cheek against it once more, and squeezed her to his chest.

Astrid's arms slid away from around his waist and landed on his lap. When she looked up at him, she still looked as though she cried but this time, she smiled. Faintly, but there. He caught it because he knew it so well.

"Please don't ever think I want you for anything other than you," she said very quietly. She froze up for a second, like she wasn't sure why she admitted it. Astrid seemed to think it over in her head and once she came to a conclusion, her body slumped a little. "If, for any chance, you doubt it, I'd like to know."

"I never did," he answered. That was true. Harry never believed Astrid had ulterior motives. But his past haunted him, and at first, he couldn't help himself. With a sigh, he reached up and brushed his thumb along the line of jaw, his palm on the side of her neck. A faint smile played on his lips as he said, "You're a breath of fresh air, you know that?"

When she chuckled and looked away from him, his ghostly smile widened, his head tilted in awe. She is so beautiful, she is so beautiful, she is so goddamn beautiful.

She poked his chest, looking at his neck, then gradually higher up as she said, "You're not so bad yourself, doc."

Harry kissed her forehead once... twice... then carefully held her face in his hands. How was it possible? How did his world resize itself into this woman? He could hold her—he was holding her. Kissing her. Softly. So softly because the thought of his world crashing terrified him.

"Alright," he whispered, and pulled away as he said, "Let's eat this burger before it goes completely cold."

"Stay," she squeezed his knee with one hand, the other across the table to pull his tray by hers. Harry watched her and it didn't seem to phase her when she glanced over at him. "I missed you," she admitted. "And I don't know when I'll see you again."

"Stay the weekend with me," he said. It's been two weeks since the gala and therefore the night she spent at his place, and it slowly but surely started to kill him. To not have her between his arms at night, no matter how exhausted he was, was worse than he thought it ever could be.

"I have so much work to get done, and when I have to work, I don't sleep well unless I'm in my own bed," she pouted and dipped her chips in barbecue sauce again. "You can stay at my place, if you'd like? But Ayla will likely steal you away for her homework."

Harry chuckled. It was strange to realise he missed the little girl. "I don't mind. Helping her, I mean. I think she's great."

"She is," Astrid smiled. "I've been obsessed with her from the moment I found out Sofia was pregnant, and I was scared in case my love for her would plummet once she was born but I think I just love her even more."

"You know," Harry started. "Sofia told me you used to be a baby cuddler."

She groaned. "I did. Yes."

"That's pretty amazing of you," he smiled. "Would you ever consider it again?"

"No."

Cold. Fast. No hesitation.

Everything changed about her, and she was quick to say, "If you stay over tonight, I'll work from home tomorrow—wait are you in work early?"

"I have a surgery at twelve tomorrow," he responded, carefully placing his burger back on the wrapper. The damned thing never stayed in one piece. "Did something happen when you were volunteering at the hospital?"

"No," she said quickly. A default response. Being so close to her, he couldn't miss her slight body change. "Yes," she mumbled. "It's—I don't want to talk about it. Can we not? Please?"

Harry nodded and she gave him a small dip of her chin.

After that, they ate and chatted about nonsense. She stole his Sprite and he finished off the Berry Oasis she ordered. When they finished, Harry walked her to her car, kissed her, and promised to see her later tonight. 

★ ★ ★

[A.N.]

[Well, then. That was certainly interesting. One emotional turmoil after another. I'd say it's about time Astrid has a meltdown. That ex of hers and this baby cuddling situation really did mess her up lol.]

[Also, and most importantly - Harry in scrubs.]

[That's it.]

[I hope you all have a lovely weekend! Harry is starting tour so life is about to get a million times better. I can't wait to see him next week <3 It's been wayyyy too long.]

[With love, B.]