The next morning I woke before you, which as we both know is rare. The light was cascading in through the windows, a series of sunrise waterfalls, bathing your bare form in a warm glow. I examined the freckles on your back, collectively creating a tan the way Seurat's pointillism created "Sunday Afternoon on La Grande Jatte," which we saw on loan from the Chicago Museum of Art just the other day here in London. I poked from one freckle to another like a frog from one lily pad to another. You twisted your head and grinned at me with a sleepy squint.

I leaned down close to your ear and murmured, "You are so incredibly beautiful."

"Thanks," you blushed so rosy in that golden light, like all the colours of a sunrise.

I touched your cheek with my fingertips, my voice low and hoarse as I continued, "When you blush like this...your beauty takes my breath away. Like you've cast a spell on me or something." You snuffled out a laugh, blinking at me with the most lovely expression of amusement. "What?" I squeaked, octaves higher than moments ago.

"I was just thinking last night that you must be some kind of witch doctor wizard because of how you got my mom to laugh and hug you and hug me."

I bit my lower lip, smiling down at you. "I'm really glad it went smoothly. I was so nervous to meet her."

You swatted me, "Why didn't you tell me you were nervous?"

I raised one shoulder. "You were already nervous enough for the both of us. I didn't want to pile on." I sighed. "Thank you, by the way, for opening up to me about your father last night, and um, I'm sorry for getting upset."

You shook your head, "Harry, you don't owe me an apology. You didn't do anything wrong. It's okay to be scared and it's okay to be upset. I get it, believe me. But I want you to know...you mean so much to me. You mean more to me than anyone ever has. Ever. So it's okay to be afraid, but you don't need to be."

"Have you given the shrink a raise yet, because..." I kissed you, both of us giggling. As I pulled back, I ran my hand over your hair. "You mean so much to me, too, Maddie. I," I swallowed, suddenly nervous. "I'm so happy being with you."

You smiled. God it was the most precious, beautiful smile. Soft and sweet. "Me too," you hummed, that smile brightening your face like a radiant reflection of sunlight on water. "I was thinking of having a Thanksgiving feast here, and you know, having some people over."

"Who would cook the food?" When you said you would, I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. You scowled at me adorably. But, sweetheart, we ate take out for every meal; you have to understand why it would seem...unlikely. "Maddie, you don't even own pots and pans. Who would you invite?"

After rolling your eyes, the Maddie Turner eyeroll, and pouting, you said, "I'd buy whatever I needed obviously. I thought your band could come and experience a traditional Thanksgiving, some of the people from the show, and... my mom." You looked down, fidgeting with the dark teal nail polish chipping off the ends of your long nails, longer than I'd ever seen them.

I kissed your hair and ran my hand down your back, "Wow. Maddie, it's so good, you reaching out to her."

You met my eyes, and your dark ones had become pools, endless caverns of emotion. Your voice was shaky, "This is what you do to me."

I don't know if I'll ever be able to explain the effect those words had on me. I felt...proud of you. Happy for you. And I felt important. I felt so fucking important that I could have this positive influence on your life, on your relationship with your mother. But I want you to know, Maddie, that all your progress with her is to your credit. I can say "but she's your mom," but you still have to take the risk and open yourself up to someone who hurt you. I know how hard it was. And I am incredibly proud. Just so incredibly proud. And so very happy for you. The week we spent with her here in England was so wonderful. You both looked so happy, and as you know, I got a bit teary watching you walk arm-in-arm through Selfridges and Harrods, affectionate and congenial as parent and child should be. You deserve a mother who can show you love, and I'm so happy you finally have it, even if you had to show her first.

Back to that November morning last year... I kissed you, "Thanksgiving sounds like a great idea." Just as our tender kiss turned into more, my alarm went off. "Shit, I have to get ready for work."

"Noooo. I don't want you to go," you whined. "We were just getting to the good stuff."

I laughed and threw back the covers, revealing your delectably round bottom and my hard cock. "Do you wanna help me with this?" I groped at my groin lazily. You shook your head, blushing. I felt a sting of rejection, but I noticed your eyes weren't on my face; they were tracking every movement of my hand. "I guess I'll have to do it myself?" As you nodded, never taking your eyes off my fingers gripping my leaking tip, I got a bit of lotion to get things going.

You balked, looking at the table behind me. "Oh my god! Do you have that lotion there so you can masturbate? Creepy!"

I laughed, blushing, "How is it creepy?"

"You, like, jerk off while I'm asleep next to you!" Shit. I guess that is creepy. I am so creepy, ha! I'm literally turning purple as I write this, and you've just given me the oddest look from across the room.

"Yep. Every night. Well, not last night."

"Jesus Christ. How many times a day do you masturbate?"

I blushed. Coughed. Looked at your shocked face and away. "I dunno. Depends on the day." You waited with your eyebrows raised. "Like, maybe three. Four if I don't have anything else going on, and I'm bored." You laughed and I laughed with you. "Definitely before I sleep every day, at the very least. It helps me sleep. How often do you?"

"Oh my god. I don't really. Very much. I mean. I have but I don't, like, regularly." Our faces were matching shades of purple. "Is that like pretty typical? I mean do all guys do it that much?"

"I don't know. I've never asked." I shrugged. Your eyes were back on my little friend, standing ready. I lowered my voice, "Maddie, do you want to watch me?" You blushed, nodding again, ever so slightly. "You want to watch me stroke my cock?" I honestly don't know how I worked up the nerve to say something so dirty to you. Maybe it was the intensity of your gaze on my body that gave me the confidence. I started to move my hand, spreading the lotion over the whole shaft. I watched your face, scanned my eyes down to your bottom, so round and pale and sexy. I let out a little moan, imagining taking you from behind, that ass in the air for me. I wanted to see your front too. "Turn over, baby. Let me see you." My rhythm faltered as you rolled over, laying like a girl in an old French painting, and I saw your breasts in the natural light of day. You had little love bites on your neck and collarbone and nipples from our days of making out that week. "Fuck, that is sexy." I touched your creamy skin, so soft and smooth, your tits so heavy and full. As I pawed at your chest, my eyes roamed down, following the luscious curve of your hips to the shadowed space between your legs. My hand moved faster, more urgently, imagining sliding into that shadow and filling that space. "Fuck," I moaned as I felt it rising. I closed my eyes and tipped back my head as I came, panting, my hand slowing but still working until I was drained. I took a moment to catch my breath. When I opened my eyes, you were staring at the dripping tip above my grip. I laughed, "You look hypnotised."

You swallowed and nodded, looking up into my eyes finally. I asked you to show me how you touch yourself. You shook your head, no. Again, I felt the slightest sting of rejection. Here I had bared myself to you, and you wouldn't do the same. That feeling vanished when you said, "You do it," your voice smaller than I'd ever heard it.

I cleaned the cum off my belly and hand with a wad of tissues then kissed you, a passionate kiss, tongues and lips colliding eagerly. I moved to your ear, kissing and biting. "As you wish, my love," I murmured, moving down your neck. I gave you another subtle love bite right where your neck met your collarbone. I rolled you onto your back and sucked your nipple, eliciting the sexiest sound from you. I grazed my teeth over the tender skin, purpled from my ministrations. Then I climbed over you to lay on my right side and slid my left hand down between your legs. Perhaps it was silly and unnecessary, but I'd learned in sex ed that heavy petting can be...unsafe if you use the same hand that was covered in semen. I don't know. I just. I didn't want to risk something so big. So I used my clean left hand to touch you. "You're so wet, baby. Turns you on to watch me get off?" Now I sort of loved saying dirty things to you and watching your cheeks darken and your body writhe subtly in response. I loved that I could be dirty with you. You nodded, grabbing my hair roughly as I resumed my attention to your breasts. Your hips bucked against my touch, so I fucked my finger in faster. You whimpered as my thumb found your clit, and your whole body shuddered when you finally came. It was beautiful to watch. Your pale skin flushed with colour. Your legs shook. Your back arched. Your teeth captured your lower lip. Your eyes squeezed closed. I sucked my fingers into my mouth, relishing the taste of you. Wishing I had just gone down. "Oh, baby, you taste so good." I had to resist the urge to dip my fingers back down for more.

My fucking alarm went off again, and I growled my irritation.

I kissed you, gently nipping at your lower lip until you opened and allowed my tongue to slide in. "Stay," you whined into the kiss.

"Baby, I want to, fuck," I closed my eyes, fighting against the growing ache in my groin.

(Side note. Okay, love, you'll appreciate this: autocorrect just changed groin to gorilla. I mean, my friend is quite hearty, but gorilla might be a bit of an exaggeration...and I can already imagine your cave and banana jokes when you read this. *see pic at end of chapter 😂)

Back to the story. I thought of all the times I'd wanted to take you out on a real date, not just hide in your house, all the things I wished I could give you. All the money I needed to do those things. "I want to stay, baby, but I have to go to work. I have to."

"I know." You hooked your arms around my neck, and I tucked my face into your neck. "I'll just miss you, is all." I smiled against your skin, rubbing my stubble against your collarbone as I kissed that spot behind your ear now occupied by my initials.

"I'll miss you too, baby. I'll bring you lunch."

You hummed happily and we kissed just a few more times before I hurried to the loo to wash up, brush my teeth, and get dressed for work.

I was a few minutes late for my shift, but those kisses were worth it. And boy oh boy was I ill-prepared for what I'd find when I got home.

My eyes widened and I froze in the bedroom doorway, shocked by the sight of your naked body, stretched across the bed, entirely uncovered. Oh. My. God. My heart pounded. My knees wobbled. My cock hardened. I realised my mouth was hanging open and raised one hand to push my jaw closed. I blinked, my eyes taking in a different part of you with each flash of restored vision, blurrier each time with lust. When I focused on your face, you wore an expression of pure amusement.

"Brazen," I exhaled.

You smiled, your body shaking lightly with humour, "not brazen. Lazy."

As I finally moved into the room, I said a small prayer of gratitude with a glance at the ceiling and kissed my cross pendant. "So are you just not putting on clothes today?"

"You've already seen all of me. The real me. The broken, angry, shattered me. The moaning, euphoric me."

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. I snagged my lip between my thumb and forefinger to contain my elation. My euphoria. "Euphoric?" Holy. Fucking. Shit.

"Mm. So I decided there's no point in hiding this," you waved your hand from your bare breasts down to your exposed, natural mound; the hair there was enticingly dark and full.

I was so fucking hard, so painfully erect. I leaned down so I was laying parallel to you, gazing into your shining dark eyes, so filled with humour and affection. This roller coaster was twisting in ways I had never experienced. It made my stomach swoop pleasantly yet terrifyingly, and I couldn't wait for the next loop.

"Well, that's a first." Your face transformed slowly into a frown, and you asked me to explain. "Oh shit, I didn't mean you not hiding is a first. I meant, most girls are quick to cover up. I've never seen a girl lay around naked like this before." I chanced another look down your body, my face burning. "I like it."

"None of the four?" When I shook my head no, you asked about my other firsts, this gorgeous look of anticipation on your face. I listed everything we had done that I'd never done with anyone else, holding back the biggest admission of them all. I had never fallen in love with anyone, the way I was in love with you. "Tell me about them, the four," you prompted.

I took a deep breath and chose my words carefully. Abigail, and how we'd been together so long but none of that mattered when we were shattered by going too far too fast. Cassie, and how there was no substance there, just sex. Caroline, and how she made me feel used and worthless. This may be silly perhaps, but it warned my heart for you to be so ready to protect/defend me and to see you jealous and squirming at the thought of me with someone else. When I thought of you with Jonas, even if it was just tv kissing, it drove me crazy. Your reactions told me you were going equally crazy. Maybe even more. God when you cut in and said that Cassie had died, I wanted to laugh so hard but I held it in and played along. And of course, I have always felt fiercely protective of you. Again, to use some of the phrasing from earlier in our encyclopaedia, I'd had this feeling of being on uneven footing. This small conversation seemed to be levelling the ground.

"And finally, there was Fern."

"Like your tattoos?"

I cringed, rubbed my hand over my mouth as I mumbled out a reply, "Yeah, no kinda... like my tattoos." I wanted to explain it all. To tell you those leaves had nothing to do with her, but the wounds were raw. I swallowed down the bitter memories. "I thought I loved her. I thought she loved me." Fuck my voice cracked and shook, and I hated that. I hated that what she did still got to me.

You frowned. "What happened?"

God, how could I explain this without seeming a fool? How could I look at you and say that I wasn't enough for her? What if I wasn't enough for you, too...

I licked my lips, sighed heavily, and started with the easy stuff. "I moved here. We broke up before that really, fighting over my leaving, over whether she would come too." I looked away from you and rubbed my palms on the seam of my jeans, another of my stupid nervous habits. "And then...she, like after I'd been here awhile, she said, she told me she had been seeing someone else, well, um sleeping with someone else for like, the last three months of our relationship."

You had this pensive frown on your face. "You deserve better than that."

I bit my lip, brushed my fingers along your cheek, lowered my voice, "I have better." You blushed and smiled at me, so lovely and sweet. I leaned down and kissed you gently, folding my arms around your bare form. You slid your knee between my legs and pulled me tighter against you. We were interrupted by my ringing phone. I glanced at the time as I swiped to answer Sal. Fuck. I was almost thirty minutes late. "Yeah. I'm on my way. I said I'm coming." I clicked off the call in annoyance. "I gotta go, baby."

We kissed again, and I ran my hand over your hip. When you grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me against you, I grabbed your bare ass. You made this precious little whining sound and rolled your hips forward into me. I groaned at the pressure.

"Harry," you whimpered. As our bodies continued to collide, I let out a questioning grunt, hmm? You pulled entirely away, flopping onto your back, your whole nude body on display. "You gotta go, baby."

I let my eyes wander, pinching my lip between my thumb and forefinger. "You're evil." I stood to leave, and your eyes fell to my obvious bulge. I shook my head. "Evil."

It was so hard, double entendre intended, to leave you there and go back to work. But it was worth it because I got to come home to you. Home. I bounced up the hill home after work that day, and the next, just utterly entirely besotted by you. I was drunk in love, intoxicated by your mind and your eyes and your smile and every little thing that added up to you.

Monday morning, I carved out a bit of time to hang with the lads. We met up on campus for brunch at the dining hall. Having eaten with you regularly, I had gotten sort of spoiled by the fancy restaurants you frequented, and this school food was really pretty bad in comparison. I pushed it around on my plate pickily, pretending to eat.

"How are things with you and Maddie, mate?" Liam apparently took my lack of appetite for a troubled mind.

I nodded, setting down my fork, giving up on the overlooked eggs. "Good. They're good." I explained to them about how I was still hung up on the I love you being perfect. How I wanted to tell you all the time. Every moment. I tried to explain to them how that urge was stronger when you were hurting, when we were fighting, or when we were intimate. "But I don't want to say it when we're hot and heavy and she just thinks I've said it because she took her kit off." I glanced up at Liam and winced at the doe-eyed expression on his face. The imagination bubbles were almost visible above his head. I should never have said something so revealing about you. About us. "Stop picturing it Liam," I kicked him under the table, blushing furiously, and furious.

"Haz, I think we're all imagining it," Louis said.

I glared at him then looked at Niall, who was nodding ever so slightly.

"Fuck you guys," I growled. I shook my head and looked at Zayn beside me.

He shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, mate." Fucking hell.

"I hate you all, assholes." I folded my arms on the table and buried my burning face.

Zayn rested his arm on my back and ran his fingers through my hair, leaning his skinny body against me. "We love you, Hazza." There were murmurs of assent.

Louis added, "She's a lovely girl, and we're disgusting teenage boys with disgusting hormones, but none of us would ever actually make a move on her, you have to know that, mate." I peeked up over my folded arms.

"Definitely not," Liam averred. He touched my arm. "You said you guys were fighting?" His concern made me want to cry.

I nodded. "A bit, yeah. It's been kind of rocky sometimes."

"Whadja fight about?" Niall asked, his mouth filled with food.

I sighed and sat up straight again, shrugging uncomfortably. I wasn't sure how much to tell them. How much I could tell them without totally violating your privacy. "Usually just me being an idiot and saying something stupid that hurts her feelings."

"You do talk some shit sometimes," Louis raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips.

I nodded.

"But you would never hurt her. I know you wouldn't mean it," Liam protested. "Surely she knows you don't mean it."

"That's the thing, Liam. I'm not sure she does. She grew up with people belittling her constantly so when I make a dumb joke, it's easier for her to believe I mean it in the worst possible way than to hear my reassurances that I don't."

Louis frowned. "I think I'm going to need a more specific example, Haz. What have you said that's upset her so?"

I sighed again, rubbing my hands over my face and into my hair. "After the last showcase, we were both exhausted. She started sort of kissing all over my neck and ear and..." I glanced up at their worried faces. "And like we haven't gone all the way, yet." Liam raised his eyebrows in surprise, but the others kept their expressions pretty even. "And I was just so knackered, I said 'don't start something you can't finish.'" Niall sucked in a breath, air hissing its way into his lungs. "And she was just so hurt." I shook my head, so fucking frustrated all over again at how foolishly I'd spoken.

"Yeah," Niall breathed out that hissed inhalation, "like you were saying she couldn't kiss ya or somethin without ya wantin more but she wasn't gonna give you more so therefore she just couldn't kiss ya."

I nodded grimly. "Exactly."

"So what did you say?" Liam asked, his face wrinkled with worry. "Are you guys okay now?"

"Yeah we're good, I think. I just, like, tried to reassure her that I wasn't trying to pressure her and that I was happy to wait as long as she needed, so long as it meant we were together. I told her a bit about Abby the other day," Liam nodded like he thought that was good. "I dunno. I love her so much. I just don't want to tell her when I'm sorry. Or when I'm horny."

"Then you're never going to be able to tell her mate. Sorry and horny is your permanent state," Louis grinned smugly at achieving a joke out of my misery.

I flipped him off.

But we all laughed. I told them they were invited to thanksgiving, and they were all so excited, so pleased to be included.

"So, are you like, officially living there now? I mean, you're never home anymore..." Liam grinned at me.

I shrugged. "Kinda yeah. I mean, yeah, I think so. She never, like, asked me, but," I took my keys out of my pocket, "she gave me my own keys."

"Have you got space in the closet?"

"Yeah."

"The loo?"

I nodded, smiling, remembering how you set up a little silver tray beside the second sink with my shaving gear, toothbrush, hair product. How you emptied a few drawers and shelves for my clothes. How you made space in the office for my school books.

Louis was beaming. "Nice. Happy for you, mate."

The next few days felt like I was floating. Somehow talking to the lads made me forget about our silly fights, forget about my nerves. And just live. It was so so pleasant waking up with you everyday, later and later as you adjusted to your time away from work. Snuggling and smooching and talking and touching. With each passing day, your home felt more and more like our home, and I felt more comfortable in your life. Like I belonged there. I no longer tiptoed down the hall. I didn't ask before I took a banana. I felt on firm footing.

And I was so eager for Thanksgiving to arrive! I couldn't wait to blend our worlds together, my band and your castmates. I couldn't wait to eat your cooking, even though there was part of me that was truly terrified. I love you, baby; I just had no idea how good you were.

The night before, you were making apple pies. I watched you peel and cut an apple, and noticed the endless pile of green apples beside you. I came around the worktop, washed my hands, and cut the apples for you. You covered them in cinnamon and sugar, tossing it all with your bare hands. I caught your wrist in my hand and raised it to my lips, licking your sweet fingers clean. You giggled and washed your hands. I watched you make the crust. From scratch. It was like a flashback to my days at W. Mandeville. Your hands moved so expertly, with hardly a glance at the notes your mum had sent.

When the pies were in the oven, you leaned back against the flour coated marble. What I had read as concentration on your face remained, and I understood it to be stress. Or anxiety. I guess that's the same thing. "Baby, you need to relax," I murmured into a kiss.

You tensed further, "I can't. I want to, believe me. I just can't. I just keep running through all the things I still have to do."

"What do you still have to do?"

You listed a shitload of stuff. I started to feel stressed too. "But most of what's left has to be done at the crack of dawn tomorrow."

I sighed in relief, "All right, so we'll get up a little earlier than the crack, and I will help you, and it will be fine, okay?" You shrugged adorably, but the worry and weariness were still heavy on your face. "Do you want me to help you relax?"

You looked up at me through those impossibly long lashes of yours, bit your lip, and nodded.

Fuck.

I was thinking like a neck massage or something but the way you looked at me, it was clear you wanted something else. And that sultry look sent all the blood in my body pulsing straight to my cock. I leaned forward and kissed your neck, just barely skimming my lips along your skin, watching goosebumps bloom as I moved toward your shoulder. You clawed your nails into my scalp, and my hips pressed against yours as if of their own mind. I ran my hands down your back, over the curve of your sumptuous backside, to the hem of your skirt. I thought about how good you always tasted on my fingers, how much I wanted to have a taste straight from the source. I dropped to my knees and rather than pulling your skirt off, I hid underneath it.

I buried my face in your lacy panties and inhaled your heavenly scent, pressing my nose into the folds underneath the delicate fabric. I reached my hands around to your ass, slipped my hands under your panties, grabbed handfuls of your flesh, before pushing your knickers all the way off. I licked and kissed up your thigh toward the thick hair between your legs, which you parted slightly at my approach. Again, I pressed my nose close and breathed you in. "Oh baby," I panted, salivating for a taste, "you smell so fucking good." You let out this throaty moan and grabbed my hair through your skirt, pulling forcefully as you pushed my face further between your legs. Holy fucking shit, I was so hard and so happy and so horny and so, fuck, I don't have anymore h words. I braced myself by grabbing your ass and pulled your hips closer as I slid my tongue into the blissful abyss between your legs. Oh god, Maddie. You tasted so sweet. When I found your most sensitive spot, circling with increasing pressure, you moaned and pulled my hair again. I slid my middle finger into you and massaged inside as my tongue continued circling outside. Your legs shook and you let out these sexy little whimpers, growing louder until your whole body tensed and relaxed with your orgasm. I pulled my finger out and sank my tongue deep into you, stealing another sampling of your flavour. I wanted to sink all of me deep into you. I was aching for you. As always.

You shuddered and exhaled, "Fuck." I stood and kissed you gently. The timer on the oven sounded, and I moved to get the pies out. You waved your hand at me lazily. "No. We just have to turn the temperature down."

I peered at the pages your mum had sent you and found the details, adjusted the temperature with my knuckle, and led you to the tv room. You fell asleep almost as soon as you sat down, and I repositioned you onto your side and covered you with the soft blanket on the back of the sofa.

I knelt beside you for a moment, just watching you sleep, marvelling at how much effort you had put into this dinner, so much that you were practically collapsing in exhaustion. It was selfless and beautiful. You wanted to share this happy memory from your childhood with me, with my mates, with your tv (real) family, with your mum. Your mum, who was the original source of this happy memory. My heart felt so warm and full; I brushed my lips across your temple delicately, whispering I love you into the darkness.

When I stood, my erection throbbed in my pants, almost like it was hailing me, "Hey! What about me?" Yeah yeah, I muttered in my mind. Okay, now I sound insane. I don't talk to my cock. But I did manhandle it, fast and rough, in the guest toilet by your office. I cleaned myself up quickly and returned to the kitchen to tidy up. I loaded the dishwasher and ran it, wiped down the counters, stuck your panties in my pocket, and set the pies on the cooling racks.

I returned to the tv room and scooped you into my arms. "Come on, sleepyhead," I murmured into your hair, "let's get you into bed." You mumbled incoherently, nuzzling into my neck as your arms tightened around me. I heard love and pie. "I took care of the pie, sweetheart." You snorted out a laugh. God I love you so much. And once you were soundly asleep in my arms, I told you again, running my fingers through your hair and my lips across your forehead.

The next morning, I bounced out of bed and dragged you along with me into the kitchen. You moved slowly and sleepily, directing me to various tasks. Once we had loaded the turkey into the cooker, you served up our breakfast of apple pie. It was delicious. Almost as delicious as you. We slept for a few more hours while the turkey cooked, and when we got up, I helped you finish the side dishes. After a quick shower, I threw on jeans and a jumper, and drove down to pick up the lads. Becca was there with her arm looped through Louis' and both were grinning like Cheshire cats.

"I've got your suit," she said, gesturing to a garment bag on the sofa.

"Wait, really?" She nodded. I unzipped it and found the exact suit I'd tried on at the snobby store down the street, "Whoa. Thanks. How much do I owe you?"

"I got it wholesale from the designer. So, $125. The receipt is attached to the bag."

"Oh my god, that's brilliant. Thank you so much!" I turned to the lads, who all looked like proper gentlemen, dressed in nice blazers or jumpers. "Maddie is really nervous, so just, whatever you lot can do to help keep the day running smoothly, that would be lovely."

"Of course," Liam grinned. "Thanks for this, Haz."

I smiled back, shaking my head. "Don't thank me, thank Maddie."

Ugh. I shouldn't have said that. As soon as we got home, he found you in the kitchen and kissed your cheek. "Thanks so much for having us today, Maddie."

I clenched my jaw. I hate this stupid jealousy, I really do. I hate that Fern and Abby made me so insecure. Or rather that I let them make me so insecure.

You seemed to read my insecurity on my face, though, and wrapped your arms around me, as if demonstrating for all of them where you belonged. "I'm so happy to have you all here. Love," you kissed my cheek, "can you get the turkey out?"

Liam helped me lift the heavy pan out onto the cooktop, and each of the lads carried something out to the dining room for us. While you finished the preparations, I answered the door, greeting the guests. I got a bit of a nervous flutter when Sam and Jenna arrived, still a fan at heart. I showed everyone into the dining room and made sure they were settled and had a beverage.

When I returned to the kitchen to ask if you needed anything, you asked me to move the turkey from the pan onto a rolling tray. It looked and smelled so delicious, and I couldn't wait to eat. You had really proven that you knew what you were doing; everything looked and smelled delicious. When we rolled the turkey into the dining room, our collected guests applauded in appreciation.

I sat in the empty seat beside Liam and smiled as you started a little speech. It was clear you were nervous, and when you stumbled over your words a little, I took your hand in mine to soothe you. You sighed, bit your lip, and carried on, "I have asked you to share this day with me here because you matter to me. I haven't always been very good at showing people that." You paused and turned to me, squeezing my hand. "But I want you to know. I love you."

I love you.

I.

Love.

You.

Could you really have just said those words to me? Those words I had swallowed down so many times...words I whispered while you slept. Could I really be enough? You loved me. You. Loved. Me. My brain almost couldn't fathom it. You loved me. You said you loved me.

"All. And I am so thankful for you."

Didn't you?

*The implications of this photo...😹!! I love you, baby.

~~~~~
What a pleasure to have met ESher21  yesterday! I feel so blessed to have such wonderful support.

Also, big news!!! THE OTHER ONE is going up on Wattpad's featured list for fanfiction tomorrow, June 6!! I'm so blown away by this. Thank you, wattpad for being an incredible forum for writers and readers to connect. I appreciate this opportunity so much. 💖