Monday morning you woke me to say goodbye by straddling my torso and leaning down to kiss me. I folded my arms around you sleepily, and as you sat up straight, I raised my head off the pillow, trying to continue the kiss. You succeeded in detaching yourself, though, and jingled a set of keys in front of me.

"What's this?" I groped for them blindly.

"Extra set of keys to the house and car. I just...I thought you should have your own set." I smiled and pulled you down for another kiss, which became heated quite quickly. Your body rocked atop mine, teasing my morning erection. Just as I moaned and grabbed at your hips, you pulled away and climbed off. "I'm sorry," you murmured with another quick kiss. "I have to go."

I collapsed back into bed and groaned, muttering my goodbyes with one hand on my abandoned lap. But my frustration was only fractionally sexual. I hated when you left Monday mornings because that meant I'd be back to my own bed and missing you at night. I was over the moon and beyond the stars in love, and any separation felt like we were planets apart.

Once your front door clicked closed, I held the set of keys up to examine them in the slowly swelling light. The car fob, the front door keys, a dangling H. I sat halfway up and clicked on the lamp. It wasn't just a random set of keys. You'd gone out and bought a keychain with my initial. It was simple, elegant, glossy. It was everything. It meant everything to me. You meant everything to me. I ran my thumb over the smooth surface, watching my oily fingerprint smudge along the fine, flat metal.

You were as serious about me as I was about you. You were as serious as I was. You--I clutched the keys to my beaming face, my body fidgeting in uncontainable excitement. I held the keys to your life in my hands. I held a symbol of our unspoken love, tinkling brightly as if to sing to the world the words we hadn't said.

I set the keys aside and slid my hand down my pants, rubbing my thumb over my leaking tip, my body pining for your presence almost as much as my soul. Once I had myself well in hand, it didn't take me long at all to lose control and release, your name a strangled string of sounds pouring from my mouth.

I woke up a couple of hours later, took a shower, and walked down the hill to the semi-detached I still theoretically shared with my band. I rang mum on the way.

"Hi, my sweet precious boy! How are you?"

"Mum, I'm so happy. I'm so in love," I blurted. My face reddened.

She cooed, "aw, really? That's lovely darling."

"I'm going to marry her someday," I declared.

"Wow. That is... massive. Are you certain?" Her tone was just a little bit guarded.

"I've never been so certain of anything in my life. I can't fathom my life without her, and I don't ever want to be without her again."

Again, she made weird noises, squeaking with excitement, "My sweet darling boy. It makes me so happy to hear you so happy. You can have Nana's ring, if you'd like."

"Really?"

"Of course, sweetheart. She'd want you to have it."

"Thanks mum. I love you," I grinned.

"I love you too, sweetheart." Her voice conveyed her smile. "Have you met her family?"

"Not yet." I explained that you weren't very close with them, but that I would be meeting your mother soon. I told her how your mother saying I love you was unusual. "She's so incredible. So beautiful and kind and funny. She makes me laugh every day. I just...now that I have her, now that I love her, I hardly remember what my life was like before her."

She awwwwwed appreciatively. "Sweetheart, Robin wants to say hello."

After a bit of small talk about the weather, Robin said, "Pace yourself, Harry."

I chuckled. "Coming from the man who took nine years."

He laughed. "Yes. I waited far too long and risked losing your mum for that stupidity. But I've also been the one to move too fast and lost. I know you have a sense that you know her, that you've loved her for far longer, but you only just met Maddie in August. It's November. Pace yourself. You have your whole life ahead of you."

Why was he trying to dissuade me? I climbed the stairs of the duplex up to my room, frowning at my phone.

"Okay," I answered, finally. "I hear you."

"I'm not saying you don't love her; I'm simply saying it's too soon to go proposing."

"Got it." I was trying not to be so angry, but it was tough. He had pushed my buttons. I didn't even say I was going to propose right away. I just said I was in love and that you were the girl I would one day marry. One day. Not that day.

Mum got back on the line. "Oh, Harry, I forgot to tell you. I've booked your plane ticket home for the wedding."

"Oh?" I was surprised. I had been tucking money away to help pay for it. I glanced at my dresser drawer, where the cash was hidden.

"We managed to save on some of the costs, so we bought your ticket."

"Oh, all right. That's great. I'll buy my own suit then."

"All right, dear." Her voice became mumbled and distant, then came back full volume, "would you like to bring Maddie?"

"Yes! Of course! But I haven't seen you in so long...are you sure?"

"I'm sure that I want to meet the girl who has made my boy so happy, yes. Yes, I'm sure."

My voice dropped barely above a whisper, "Okay," I blushed again. "Thanks."

I went back downstairs to talk to Liam but only found Louis. "Harold," he nodded.

"Lewis." He stuck his foot out to trip me as I walked past. I stumbled and caught myself on the kitchen counter. "Prick," I muttered.

He laughed. "Oh, by the way, Liam and I've got Strong ready for you."

"Oh yeah? I'm excited to hear it." I ate cocoa puffs straight out of the box. "Oh, hey Lou," I spoke around a mouthful of chocolate mush, "I have to get a suit for my mum's wedding. You wanna help me pick one?"

He shrugged, laughing at the food spewing out of my mouth. "Sure. When do you want to go?"

"Um, now?"

He glanced at the clock on the microwave. "Yeah, I guess we have time."

I grabbed my envelope of cash, and we walked down the hill to the shopping centre across the street from Sal's, which held a menswear store. When the employee approached us, he scanned his eyes down both of our tattooed arms, sneering as he raised his gaze back to our faces. It reminded me of the way the manager at Il Fornaio looked at me. The way Jonas looked at me at the hot assholes party. Like I was nothing.

"How can I help you." There was no questioning in his tone; his voice was flat with distaste.

Louis clapped my shoulder roughly. "My friend here needs a suit for his mother's wedding."

"Ah. I see. Need to look respectable." Yes, he literally said that. I gritted my teeth and tried not to let it bother me. But, Maddie, almost nothing in this world makes me as angry as when people make judgements about me. About how poor my clothes say I am. About how anarchistic my tattoos seem to people in authority. About how slovenly my curly hair appears to the uptight. "Presentable."

I wanted to leave. To find some other store some other time. But Louis just squeezed my neck and said, "precisely. Show us your most presentable suit." His sarcasm was evident to me, but the clerk seemed not to get it. After an hour of trying on suits, to the constant berating of the salesman, I settled on a slim-fit black gabardine. Louis took pictures of me in it, of the label, of the size. He took the suit from my arms and shoved it into the clerk's chest. "Thank you so much for your help. I think we will find another store in which to spend our hard-earned cash. One where we're treated like human beings." He grabbed my wrist and dragged me outside, muttering what an ass the guy was. I'm almost certain I heard the man utter a homophobic slur, and I turned to go back in. Not to defend myself against the term, but because such slurs are ugly and abusive, and I'm just not o-fucking-kay with it. Louis put his hand on my chest, "come on, Hazza. He's not worth it."

"I know." I ran my hand through my hair. "Fucking hell. Will people here ever treat us like we belong?"

"Sure they will," he shrugged as we walked back up the hill. "When we're famous, they'll all kiss our asses."

I rolled my eyes. A Maddie Turner eye roll. "That's not better."

"Sure it is. Who cares if people are fake in their courtesy, as long as they are courteous." He shrugged again. A Maddie Turner shrug? "I'll see if Becca can help with your suit."

I grinned at him. "That's on, then?"

Another shrug and an impish smile. "She's a lovely girl." We went our separate ways once we reached campus.

When I got to my creative writing class, Sam eyed me warily.

"What's wrong?"

"Your bandmate Zayn is an ass." What the hell had he done?

"Wait, why? What happened?"

"I...he...I," she looked down. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No wait, you can't do that. You can't tell me something like that and then not finish the story." I thought about this episode of Friends I loved.... "That would be like if Martin Luther King said 'I have a dream but I don't want to talk about it.'"

She chuckled, "good one."

I reddened. "It's not my joke. I stole it from Friends."

"Oh...yeah that rings a bell," she looked at the ceiling as if there was an imaginary bell up there. And Zayn was the hunchback of Notre Dame, ringing it for her alone to hear. (I put this bit in just for you, love. I thought you'd appreciate my attempt to write like you.) "I really don't think I should talk about what happened though. You're my friend. He's yours. So, just forget it."

"I just want to make sure you're all right, Sam. I asked you to come on Friday, promised you a good guy. I meant Louis, but still. If he hurt you..."

"No! No, no. Nothing like that. I...just please forget I said anything. I shouldn't have brought it up. It's just not my place."

The professor began class, so I had no choice but to drop the issue. I certainly would have some questions for Zayn when I saw him later. He wasn't there at the history class we were all taking together, though, and when I asked Liam, he said that Zayn hadn't been back all weekend again.

Rehearsal after class was complicated as a result. I shared the poem I'd written about you and all your little things. Louis started composing right away. Then Liam played the new updated version of Strong. We sang both through without Zayn. I realised there were parts I liked for myself and parts that I liked them singing. The others agreed. We looked at each other uncomfortably. Zayn was our "lead singer." He didn't play an instrument. He didn't write lyrics. Yet, many of our new songs were split among us more equally, or with Liam and I taking on larger parts. He hadn't voiced dissent in recent months, but back in England, we had quite a few tense moments in which he insisted on having a larger part of one song or another. I understood his point of view, to some extent. We came together as a band where his role was always defined as the lead singer; the rest of us played instruments and wrote the music and lyrics. It wasn't so much that we wanted to change that when we gave him smaller parts. But certain songs, personal songs, I wanted to sing to you myself...and he wasn't there. As we were making these decisions about the melodies, the harmonies, he wasn't there. It made it so much harder to write the songs with his range, his tone in mind.

I was exhausted by the time we were done, and I realised late that you had messaged me about dinner. I tapped your face in my contacts to ring you.

"Hi, baby," I said. "I'm sorry. We got so lost in writing."

"It's fine," you yawned. I could hear the creak of your body straining against sleepiness. "I have to be in Pasadena by four again tomorrow, so I'm going to bed."

Fuck. I was hoping to see you. I was always hoping to see you. No matter how much time we spent in one another's company, it was never enough. "Okay, love. Sweet dreams."

"They're always sweet when I dream of you."

I think I giggled. I think the noise that came from my body would definitely be classified as a giggle. "Cheese."

You giggled back. Like we were creating our own language formed from laughter. "Goodnight, Harry."

Tuesday was a bit of a repeat of Monday, except you texted me earlier to confirm plans after class. When I got out of rehearsal, you were standing there with the camera guy from your class. I nodded at him and kissed you, taking your face in both of my hands. "Hi, beautiful."

"Hi." You blushed and batted your lashes, looking down. "Harry, this is Andre, my colleague. Andre, Harry...my boyfriend."

I would never tire of hearing you call me that. I turned and shook his hand. He seemed as thrilled to be your "colleague" as I was to be your boyfriend. "Hi," I grinned. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too," he nodded.

"Andre and I have some filming left to do today."

"Okay." I was honestly so entirely enraptured in your eyes that the meaning behind your words hadn't registered.

You coughed and put your hands on your hips. "So, um, do you want to come over anyway, and uh, and like hang out until we finish, or..."

"Yes." I kissed you again. "Whatever works for you, love."

My band sans Zayn, again, exited the building behind me. "Maddie!" Liam was still embarrassingly excited every time he saw you.

"Hi, Liam," you smiled and hugged him, then the others, introducing each to your classmate. It was a tendency I'd noticed several times. You always went out of your way to make sure the people around you were named. Known. Important. It was in stark contrast to the way the clerk and waiter had made me feel. "Would you guys like to come over? Andre and I are filming a project at my place, and we can order pizza."

"Michael's?" Louis smirked.

Your eyes darted to mine, and a blush crept up your neck. "Sure. Best pizza in town."

"That'd be awesome," Liam fawned. I think he was a dog in his past life. A Labrador. I could almost see a tail wagging behind him.

We were met at the carpark by your actress. She and Andre took the middle row of your rover while my band crammed into the backseat. I held your hand as I steered us home, using my keys. My keys. A few times when I checked the side mirror, we locked eyes. I understand your face rainbow thing. It was like a beam of love and happiness was arcing from your face, illuminated by the shine in your eyes.

It was exciting and fascinating to watch you set up for the filming. You'd look through the camera with one eye squinted shut while chewing on the inside of your lower lip, then stand straight and direct Andre to make changes. Move the lighting this way, shift the camera that way. Or the actress. Turn at an angle, like so. Lift your face to the light. Emote!

Liam was nearly as rapt as I. "Just look at her," he sighed.

"That's all I do," I laughed.

Liam looked at me instead of you, his eyes wide and wondering. "Wow, you really are in love, aren't you."

"Shush," I elbowed him. "I've said as much."

"But not to her?" Niall asked, leaning forward to catch my eye.

"Not yet. I've wanted to a thousand times. Almost have several times. Planned to a few times before the world got in the way and I ended up swallowing the words," I kept my voice low, and the lads nodded to show they heard. "I want it to be perfect, ya know. I don't want to say it, and have her like, doubt that I mean it, like when she's upset or when we're...intimate."

"Makes sense," Louis nodded. "To be honest though, Haz, she's got to know it already. It's written all over your face. Both of your faces, really."

I smiled, my face heating up. "Yeaaaahhhh."

"She's so talented," Liam drew our attention back to you.

"Yes, she is," I answered proudly.

"We should have her film a video for us."

"No." I shook my head. "Absolutely not."

"Come on, Haz," he whined. "She's incredible."

"It's not that, dammit, Liam. You all agreed not to use her fame and here you are trying to latch on."

"What? No! I genuinely like her work, mate."

"You haven't even seen the product!" I shook my head again. "Forget it. It's not happening."

The doorbell rang, and I left them there to answer it. The pizza guy looked at me quizzically. "Where's Maddie?"

"She's out back. How much?" I didn't even realise you'd ordered.

"It was on her card. I'm gonna need her to sign, dude." I frowned but closed the door and jogged to the back to get you, apologising for interrupting your work. You laughed and smiled, thanking the guy as you signed the slip. I handed him a twenty and took the huge pile of boxes. "Thanks, bro," he held the cash up as you closed the door.

I set the boxes on the kitchen counter and this unusual collection of people stood around eating and chatting. I ended up next to Andre.

"How long have you and Maddie been working on projects together?"

"Well," he wiped cheese from the side of his mouth, "uh, we're in the same cohort, so we've had most of our classes together since last fall. I was in her group a couple of times last year, but the other people always wanted her to star in the pieces." He glanced across the room where you were chatting with my bandmates. "They didn't really appreciate how much she has to offer."

I smiled. "She's brilliant."

He nodded emphatically. "She's a genius. Like, in class, she'll say something about the films we're assigned to watch, and the professor is always like, that's what the rest of you missed!" We laughed. "We had to watch this one movie, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, and she just...she sees things no one else notices."

I was so fucking proud, hearing him talk about you. I loved it. I loved knowing that others saw you the way I did. "I watched it with her," I chuckled. "She taught me about anachronisms and wide shots vs close ups."

Andre nodded again. "The way her mind works...it's like she has a movie camera in there."

"You must be good, too, if she's working with you."

"Funny, I was going to say almost the same thing. I know you must be a good guy if she'd date you." Again we laughed. "Honestly, it's an honour to operate a camera for her, and I can't imagine working with anyone else now."

"Would you ever consider filming--" I heard Liam ask.

"Excuse me a second," I said to Andre. Rounding the breakfast bar in two long strides, I nudged Liam forcefully. "I told you not to ask her that."

"Harry, you need to calm down, mate," Liam said.

Calm down. Calm down?? I was furious. Irate. Incensed. I had specifically told him not to ask, and what the fuck does he do? He asks. Unbelievable.

You ran your hand up my arm and into my hair, and I turned away from him to you. Your fingers tugged at the long curls at the nape of my neck, urging me closer to you. Your touch alone soothed me, tension in my shoulders relaxing as the anger was dispelled by your kiss.

(Like Rose in Black Mist. You have healing touch.)

At the end of the evening, you announced that you would drop us off at the duplex, sliding your hand into mine, and my heart sank. I had hoped I'd be staying over. I'd thought the keys meant more than they did, apparently, and pouty child that I am, I sulked the whole three minutes down the hill. The guys thanked you and went inside, but I just sat there. It had been a frustrating couple of days, busy, away from you, looked upon with disdain by the suit seller. I just wanted to spend every free second with you, to bask in your beauty and the way you made me feel like a better man than I am.

You tugged on my hand and asked me why I was mad at Liam. "I told him not to bother you about filming something for us. And he brought it up anyway."

You smiled and said you'd film a video for us. No hesitation. No question. Not even a hint that it bothered you. Still, I protested. I was so scared, Maddie. I was always so scared of losing you. You suggested we could do it over winter break. Winter break when I would be in England. Winter break when I hoped you'd be in England with me. Hmm. I considered it, shrugging instead of saying no.

You ran your thumb over my hand, so soft. You have the softest hands I have ever felt. Like silk. "I'll do whatever you want, Harry."

I couldn't sulk any longer, as a smile pulled at my cheeks. "It's that simple? Whatever Harry wants." You nodded, looking away. "What if I wanted to stay with you tonight?" Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.

The Maddie eye roll, barely lit by the street lamp. "I mean, I guess," shrug. "You may as well leave some stuff at my place."

We need a new word for euphoria. Euphoria isn't strong enough. Face rainbows can't even begin to capture how I felt in that moment.

When we got home, you led me into the tv room and clicked it on. Once I was settled on the sofa, you sat on my lap, facing me, your back to the screen. I rested my hands on your hips and looked up at you. You murmured that you'd missed me, then kissed me.

"What time do you have to be up for work?" My hands slid up your back as if they had a mind of their own. As if hands have minds. I suppose they do, actually. The mind in the body they're attached to.

You smiled into another kiss. "I'm done for the fall," you slid your tongue into my mouth, pressing your body against mine and cupping my face with your soft--so soft--hands.

I kissed your cheek to your ear to your neck, where I sucked until you moaned and a love bite bloomed. I trailed my teeth over it, then moved down to your collarbone. You mirrored my actions, biting my jaw gently and sucking my neck just below. I bucked my hips up against your pelvis involuntarily. I buried my face in your cleavage, my hands slowly moving around to the front, as you continued to nibble at my neck. You relented and kissed my lips instead when I grabbed two handfuls of your flesh, your breasts spilling over the top of my grip. I slid one hand under your shirt and fumbled at the strap on your back. You leaned away and undid a clasp in the front then pulled your bra out of your sleeve like a fucking magician. Tada! A bra!

"Now make a bunny," I said.

You giggled and kissed me again, tugging my lower lip into your mouth and sucking on it. We were a kaleidoscope of flushed skin and exploring hands, prismatic musical moans.

You stopped. Sat back, your weight on my thighs instead of my... "Can I ask you a question?" You blinked, gazing into my eyes. I nodded, nervous. "Okay, so like. Boners." I laughed so hard, you almost fell off my lap. I wrapped my arms around your back and rested my face on your shoulder, still shaking with laughter. You pushed me back. "I'm serious! Be serious for a second."

"Okay. I'm sorry." I bit my lips closed.

"Okay," you breathed out, your chest heaving so beautifully. "I don't know what's normal. Like. What do you think about? How does it happen? Like, in the morning, it's always...but then also when we...or like, does it sometimes happen with no physical contact, or? I mean, does it happen just from kissing?" All of that came out in one breath. You blinked at me, waiting.

You looked so lovely, with your cheeks rosy and your hair a mess. I collected my thoughts carefully. "No. Not always. No," I touched your face tenderly. "When you sit on me like this, my body reacts. When we kiss, deeply, passionately. But the sweet gentle kisses," I kissed you gently, sweetly, "...no."

"What do you think about, like when you...deal with it? Me?"

We were getting into scary territory; I didn't know how to answer without making you think I was a lech who only wanted to shag you. I looked away. "I don't want to objectify you. I don't want to pressure you."

You pulled my face back to look in your eyes. "I don't feel objectified or pressured. I feel...beautiful and wanted and sexy." Oh, baby you are.

"You are." I kissed you. "You are so beautiful, Maddie. So sexy."

"You want me?"

"Yes," I barely got the word out, so completely overtaken by lust was I. "God, yes."

"Tell me what you think about...when you...you know." I shook my head. I couldn't. I couldn't say that out loud. "Please," you whispered against my lips.

I rested my hands on your thighs and slid your skirt up, just enough to bare the skin. "Your thighs," I caressed the smooth skin below the hem, my eyes following the movement. "I love your thighs. I think about them wrapped around me." You released a little squeak and tucked your face into my neck, biting me. "Your ass." I moved my hands under and around, my fingers just dipping under the band of your panties. You moved your hips forward, creating the most pleasant friction. We moaned in unison. "Your breasts," I left one hand on your backside as the other slid under your shirt. You pulled my face toward yours and kissed me, a deep and longing kiss. I caught your hand and kissed it. "Your hands," I looked into your eyes and released your hand. I ran my thumb over your bottom lip. "Your mouth," I closed my eyes, imagining all the things I wanted to do with your mouth. You sucked my thumb into your mouth. "Fuck," my hips jerked up eagerly. You moved yours in a steady rhythm, keeping my thumb in your mouth, so hot and wet, your tongue circling it teasingly. My brain translated the pressure on my thumb to the movement on my lap.... "Oh, fuck," I came in my pants. Again.

Your hips were still rutting back and forth, seeking that pleasant friction. I slid my hand under your skirt and into your soaking panties. You arched your back and rocked back and forth over my fingers until you came, shuddering and cursing.

We washed up and went to bed, and I slept with the love of my life curled against me. What a delightful way to spend a Tuesday night. It was the way I wanted to spend every night for the rest of my life.

Yet Wednesday I was back to my own sad bed. I wasn't sure whether I had a standing invitation, you see, and I felt so awkward asking if I could sleep over. Like I wanted that more than you did. Like I was alone in love. Thursday you asked me to stay even though I had to work late, and I can't even remember what happened at work that night because I was so fucking happy. I let myself in with my keys and crawled into bed with you to sleep.

Friday morning, you poked my dimple and called me pretty. It was so cute. But cute wasn't what you were going for, it seemed. Our kisses quickly turned into more. You clawed at my back and bit my lip, eliciting a throaty groan. Our bodies writhed together; since our talk on Tuesday, I no longer felt a need to hide my "boner," so I pressed it against you with building momentum.

I was completely caught off guard when your hand slipped into my boxer briefs, and my whole body tensed. "Maddie, I--" your fingers curled around my cock, and I lost all words, as if the wind had been knocked out of me by a sucker punch. My shaking arms couldn't hold me, so I shifted down to my elbows.

You breathed into my ear, "I want to touch you." You slid your fingers up and down so lightly it almost hurt. I know that doesn't make sense. It was...too intense. On the edge of tickling, on the edge of utter disaster.

I put my hand on top of yours to tighten your grip. "Oh, fuck," it felt so good; I forgot to breathe for a moment. I guided your hand up, over the head, and back down. Once you had a steady rhythm, I plunged my hand between your legs. You sucked on my earlobe as you fondled my little friend. With very little lubrication, the skin pulled painfully a couple of times, and I hid my wince in your shoulder. I focused on the feeling of your fingers, so fucking soft on my sensitive skin. "Oh, f--fuck, oh fuck, Maddie." I felt the hot liquid smearing on my stomach as jolts of physical ecstasy flooded through me.

Your body was tensing as if you were close, but it was taking longer than usual. Finally, I slid my middle finger down into you and found your inner trigger--you arched your back and curled your toes as soon as I grazed it. So responsive. I loved how your body reacted to my touch. I loved how you closed your eyes and parted your lips and how you fisted the sheet and lifted your hips. And the way your whole body contracted and then relaxed as the orgasm was unleashed. It was beautiful. Free. You looked so free.

It was alarmingly opposite to how you looked later that day when we got ready to have dinner with your mum. You looked like a trapped and wounded animal, ready to gnaw its own leg off to get away. I tried to ease your mind, kissing you gently, rubbing your shoulders, offering ridiculous advice.

You sighed. "You haven't met her yet; trust me, this anxiety is warranted." You drove us down to the Italian place, Il Fornaio. Fuck. Now I was anxious, too. But maybe the people there'd be nicer now that they'd seen us together once before.

You walked right past the host station to a woman sitting alone. She looked just like you. I know you've protested this. But she did. She looked like you, but older. And with green eyes instead of brown, but...she could have been your sister. "Harry, this is Meredith, my mother. Mom, Harry." I blinked at you for a second, waiting for my boyfriend. It didn't come.

I turned to your mum and smiled to cover the sting. "It's so great to meet you, Mrs. Turner."

She swatted at my shoulder. Just like you do. It was tripping me out. "Call me Meredith." Your mum asked nonstop questions once we all sat down. "Sorry," she said after our entrees came, and I had a mouthful of food. "I've just been pestering you this whole meal."

"Not at all," I smiled. I had the sense she was nervous. She hardly made eye contact with you, her daughter, the one she should have been comfortable around. "I'm happy to answer anything," I reassured her. I wanted both of you to know I had nothing to hide. That I was sincere in my affection.

You stood when your mum started perusing the dessert menu. "Restroom," you mumbled, leaning over to kiss my cheek on your way.

As soon as you were out of earshot, your mum said, "You've had a very positive effect on her."

I smiled. "It's the reverse, actually."

"Oh?"

"Before I met your daughter...I was just stumbling through life," I swallowed and looked her in the eyes. "I was fumbling in the dark. My heart was... Empty. Now, I know what it feels like to love someone completely, unconditionally. She's the light. She's my light."

"Harry, you are her light. She's never been like this. She's never been so...happy. I've never seen Maddie smile so much, so...genuinely. She's radiating."

I felt myself blushing. "I love her." I looked down at my hands on the table. "I love her so much."

"I can tell." Meredith rested her hand on mine and smiled. Louis was right, it seemed. I wore my love for you on my face for the world to see. I hoped you saw it too. "Any idiot could."

I laughed. "Am I that obvious?"

She laughed too, "Yes, just a bit," and patted my hand again. "She hasn't known much love in her life." I looked at her in surprise and with sadness at her admission. "I'm glad she has you."

You returned and the three of us shared a coffee ice cream sundae before leaving. I pulled your mum into an awkward hug in the carpark, then watched as you did too. Your back was to me, so I got to see the surprise and joy on your mum's face that night when you put your arms around her. And the way she tightened her hold on you. And the way she wiped away her tears before you could see them.

On the drive home, you wept and told me that she hadn't hugged you since you were a little girl. It was heartbreaking. Confusing. It was evident to me that she loved you. She loved you, but perhaps didn't know how to show you? I bit my lip to keep from crying, too. Back home, I put my hands on your cheeks and asked, "are you okay, baby?"

You nodded. "I'm more okay than I've ever been, I think." You smiled up at me, your eyes so red from crying the whole way home.

I wiped the wet from under your eyes with my thumbs. "Your mum cares more than she can show you." You nodded. "I don't know why she can't show you. But you have to know she loves you."

"I do...deep down I do." You sighed and rolled your eyes, "Way deep down." We laughed, and I kissed you gently.

I was sad for your mother.

At the same time, I sort of hated her.

Mums are the people you know will love you. Mums are the ones we turn to when it feels like no one else cares. Mums care. Mums love us. How could she let you go your whole life so lost and so alone? How could she leave you to fight through life without a safe place to call home?

I decided that night: I'd be your anchor. I'd be your lighthouse.

Maddie, I will be your safe space to call home. I will make certain you will never feel alone again.

~~~~~

Couple things: if you ever started reading The Plague, I'm back at it again with the chapter updates. "damn Annie, back at it again..."

Also, I did an interview with the lovely folks at Best1DFic  who have graciously and continuously supported my writing. Check it out! I...um...was asked to generate questions I'd ask 1D and um...they're...weird. Like me. 😂 (and I answered them in the comments 😁)

And, as always, thanks for reading. This story is so personal and so special to me. I love reading your comments and seeing your names in my notifications, even if I've never said anything to you. (I'm sorry if I never did. Yell at me! I'll pop over and say hi)