ach harry

i don’t want to discuss it too much obviously as it’s a private matter but god my heart aches for harry and louis and their families. they’ve gone through too much. definitely keeping them in my thoughts and i hope they can find comfort in the happy memories and love surrounding them. and i hope they get the privacy and respect they all deserve during this difficult time.💓

desperately in love

just a shitty little drabble i wrote in 15 minutes lol

For Harry, Eggsy is his world. He’s the one person that he fully trusts and the one person he never gets tired of waking up to. The younger man is like a breath of fresh air - from the moment Harry laid his eyes on Eggsy he knew he was in love.

Harry spoils Eggsy. He takes him out for meals at the most expensive restaurants in London, buys him anything he wants, takes him on five star holidays whenever the two have time off of work.

There is nothing better to him than waking up next to Eggsy’s snores and coming home to the boy passed out on the sofa with JB snoozing on his lap.

All of that is bliss.

But the aching in Harry’s heart grows stronger every day.

For him, Eggsy is his other half, his life and soul, his everything.

For Eggsy, Harry is simply a fill in. A fill in that has a lot of money.

It hasn’t always been like that. At first, Eggsy made every effort to spend as much time with Harry. He would snuggle with Harry every chance he was given and, well, Harry’s phone would never stop buzzing with the amount of texts he’d get from him.

In the last few months, the time Eggsy spends with him has dwindled. The texts are almost non existent - the only texts are late at night, when the younger man wants a fuck, or when Harry texts him first. Eggsy flirts with the other men in the HQ, right in front of his eyes.

He clings on, desperately hoping that maybe, just maybe, things might change, might go back to normal. That Eggsy will want him again, not just see him as someone to pass the time with until someone better comes along.

But really, he doesn’t blame him. Who would love an old man with one eye?

Harry certainly wouldn’t.

It’s late at night when Harry’s phone buzzes. He’s still awake anyway, watching some re run of an old show, drinking a nice whiskey to calm his nerves from an operation he had come back from just a couple of days ago.

Of course it’s Eggsy. He smiles at the name flashed up on his screen, trying to ignore the aching feeling in his chest.

The smile is quickly wiped away when it’s another text just wanting sex.

He’s not good enough. He never will be, apparently.

Far Away.

Words: 57,031 
AuthorJackstylinson/dimpled-halo
Chapters: 7/7
FandomOne Direction (Band)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Louis Tomlinson/Original Male Character(s)
Characters: Ed Sheeran, Nick Grimshaw, Jay Deakin
Additional Tags: Post-Break Up, Break Up, Friends to Lovers, Exes to Lovers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Time, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Flashbacks, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, Jealous Louis, Tattoos, Smut, Eventual Smut, Drinking, Musician Harry, Teacher Louis, OT5 Friendship,  Pining, Jealous Harry, Premature Ejaculation, Past Harry Styles/Original Male Character, Songwriting, Young Love, Masturbation, Best Friends, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Unresolved Tension

Summary:

Harry swallows hard, clearing his throat. “Hi Lou,” he says, looking at Louis reluctantly. He’s even more gorgeous than he remembers, so much, he feels uneasy looking directly at him, he’s so beautiful.

Louis looks at Harry, does a quick once-over and smiles, eyes so bright and blue—just how Harry remembers. “Harold!” He gets up out of his seat and embraces him into a warm hug. It’s a friendly platonic hug; one that ends way too soon. Harry wishes it would last longer so that he can breathe Louis in and memorize his new but somehow still familiar scent. It instantly leaves his body aching for more.

****

Harry returns to London after five years. Stuck in the past with “what ifs” and “what might have beens”, he sees that his friends and ex (and possible love of his life) Louis have all moved on with their lives while he finds himself questioning his own life choices, past and present.


Listen to the playlist here

Written for round 5 of @1dbigbang

Artwork by @accidentalziam

anonymous asked:

I always imagine Draco gardening, (idk because he gardened with his mom when he was little maybe?) anyway, now I've imagined Harry coming to see Draco, spotting him with dirt on his cheek and knees scuffed from the ground. I can't decide how Harry would react though. Would he think it's cute? Out of character? Weird?

As Harry walks down the stone steps into Draco’s garden, he can’t help but feel as if he is trespassing upon a scene he isn’t meant to see.

He’d known he wasn’t due at Draco’s til half past noon but he’d been bored and restless at his flat alone, and if truth be told he’d missed Draco something terrible after a week away on assignment.  So on a whim he’d tried to use the floo a few hours early and had been pleasantly surprised to find Draco had left the connection open for him.

Except when he’d stepped out into the lounge he’d not seen Draco anywhere.  He’d called out for him, and poked around his house, but there was no sign of him anywhere.  Harry had almost started to worry that something might be wrong until he’d noticed the kitchen door ajar which had led him out into the dewy, sunlit garden.  

It was unusually warm for this time of year and Harry had only expected to find Draco enjoying the sunshine.  He mostly definitely hadn’t expected to find Draco on his knees amongst a bed of flowers; his sleeves rolled up and grass stains on his knees.  But what Harry found most startling was the sight of Draco bent over on his hands and knees, a line of sweat dripping down his neck and his long, elegant fingers digging into the dark, rich soil.

Harry wasn’t sure why he found it so shocking, he’d known Draco liked to take care of his own flowers.  He’d told him as much on their third date, mentioning how he used to tend to the flowers in the garden with his mother as a child.   He’d said it casually enough at the time as if it was nothing, but Harry had known then it was Draco’s way of revealing something very intimate about himself to Harry.  The significance of that small comment had not been lost on him.

However there was a big difference between knowing Draco liked to garden and seeing him work the earth with his bare hands.  Harry wasn’t sure what it was exactly, all he knew was that the sight before him made his clothes feel too small and his heart feel too big.

And so when Draco abruptly stands a moment later, embarrassed and rubbing his hands on his pants Harry nearly sprints across the garden, pressing Draco back against the stone wall and tangling his fingers into Draco’s and holding on as if trying to anchor himself.  There is something different about this kiss, something raw and desperate and Harry dimly wonders if Draco feels as exposed as he does.

“If I’d have known you liked to see me dirty I might’ve invited you over to watch me garden a long time ago,” Draco teases when they finally stop kissing, his eyes locked on Harry with a gentle fondness that makes his chest ache.

“I love you,” Harry whispers quite suddenly.

Draco doesn’t say anything at first, just blinks a few times and Harry’s stomach drops immediately, wondering if he’s misread the moment.  But then its Draco’s turn to nearly slam Harry back against the wall, kissing him as if his life depends upon it.  

Draco doesn’t say anything, doesn’t say the words back, but his hands tremble as he hold’s onto Harry, pressing messy kisses to his neck and face and just about  anywhere he can reach. 

 And Harry smiles, because Draco hasn’t said the words out loud, but its in his eyes and his touch and his smile, and he knows that Draco is saying it back in his own way.  So Harry closes his eyes, letting Draco’s touches wash over him as he inhales the smell of grass and dirt, memorizing every moment and relishing in the overwhelming sensation of being loved.

Dating Fred would include…

-tickle fights
-always getting into trouble with him and George
-Molly knitting you a sweater for Christmas
-sneaking around at night to get a midnight snack
-a game about who of you can talk to Snape for the longest amount of time until he leaves
-Fred calling you “bird”
-kisses on your nose
-bellyache because of so much laughing
-you and George colouring Fred’s face when he falls asleep with his head resting on your knees
-Fred kissing the top of your head because you’re so much shorter than him

Ache (Blurb)

What if Harry gets home from a long day in the studio, the house is more quite than usual, but then his little four-year-old comes to greet him in the hallway, and tells that momma has a really bad headache, so they need to be quite and she takes his hand, leading him to her and they’ve a cuddle, all three of them.

———————————————————————————————-

The house was strangely quiet when Harry opened the door and tossed his bag down on the floor. Typically, he would come home to the sounds of his daughter laughing and running around the house while you were trying to pin her down for her evening bath.

The only thing to greet him, at first, was the cat, who wandered over to him, nonchalantly and purred. Harry bent down to give his fur a rub, and then stood up again, toeing out of his shoes and glancing around.

“Hello?”

The house was suspiciously clean as well. There were a few toys scattered here and there, but he didn’t see any evidence that his daughter had been playing in the sitting room after dinner, the way she normally would have.

“Hello?” he called again, taking a few steps in from the entry.

Finally, he saw his little daughter come padding around the corner in her socked feet.

“Hi daddy,” she whispered, coming over and reaching her arms up for him.

Harry bent down and hoisted her into his arms, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi monkey,” he said, “Have a good day?”

She nodded, leaning in to lay her head on his shoulder. She was also unnaturally quiet. Normally, when Harry had been gone all day, his daughter was incredibly excited to see him and would basically pounce on him, giggling and shrieking as he blew raspberries all over her face and neck. Tonight, she was subdued, barely saying a word and choosing to be cuddly instead.

He walked with her, still in his arms, into the sitting room and plopped both of them down on the couch.

“You feelin’ okay, lovebug?” he asked, rubbing her back.

She nodded again, lifting her head from his shoulder and staring at him with big, green eyes that melted him every single time.

“We hafta be quiet,” she whispered, bringing her finger to her lips.

“Do we?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow, “Why’s that? Are we playin’ a game?”

“Nuh uh. We hafta be quiet for mummy.”

It suddenly dawned on Harry that he hadn’t seen any trace of you yet.

“Where is mummy?” he asked, allowing his daughter to slip off of his lap and stand before standing himself.

“Her head feels yucky,” she explained, “She’s sleepin’.”

Harry frowned, coming to realize exactly why the house had been so quiet. He felt his daughter reach up to grab his hand and start leading him down the hallway towards your bedroom.

The lights were off and he could see your sleeping form curled up in bed. Your daughter ran to the other side of the bed and climbed up, carefully, before crawling over next to you and settling down beside you. There were a few books and toys scattered across the sheets which made Harry think that his daughter had been hanging out with you for a few hours while you tried to nap.

Harry knelt down beside you and reached his palm out to swipe it gently across your forehead. You opened your eyes slowly and smiled when you saw him.

“Hi babe,” you croaked.

“How you feelin’?”

“Mmm, my head’s killing me, but it’s calmed down a bit since dinner. (Y/D/N) has been such a big help.”

Harry smiled, looking over at his daughter, who was now laying down and curled right up against your back.

“Can I get you anythin’?”

You shook your head slowly and closed your eyes again.

“I’m okay, thanks.”

Your daughter piped up from beside you.

“Daddy, come cuddle with us! It’ll make mummy feel better.”

Harry smiled again, knowing she was absolutely right. He shrugged off the floral print shirt he had been wearing, leaving only the plain, white t-shirt underneath, and shuffled around to his side of the bed, feeling it dip under his weight as he sat down and swung his legs up.

“Here, come on my other side, monkey,” Harry instructed, “That way I can snuggle with both of you.”

Your daughter climbed over Harry’s body until she was on his left side, and Harry shuffled both of them closer to you. You rolled over and sighed contentedly as you snuggled into Harry’s chest. One arm went around you and the other went around his daughter as she, too, cuddled herself into his side and looped one of her legs over his thigh, clinging on to him like a koala on a tree.

Harry placed a kiss on both your forehead and his daughter’s before he closed his eyes as well and settled down. Content to be surrounded by both of his girls.

I’m reading Harry’s duel with Voldemort at the end of the Triwizard Tournament and just.

The terror of witnessing the person next to him die? Cedric is there and then. Gone. Just gone. And Harry is alone in a graveyard forced to watch as Voldemort rises up fully formed and alive?

Having to face the person that murdered his parents, being tortured for sport, and knowing deep down that help isn’t coming; that this won’t end until the monster taunting him chooses for it to end. And even so he decides to die standing, to have this one last act of rebellion.

God. This poor, sweet boy.

A Lazy Day Off With Harry (NSFW)

Or when Harry gets bored while watching tv and finds a way to keep busy…       

“(Y/N),” you feel another piece of trail mix hit your cheek and you sigh, making a point to ignore him. “(Y/N)”

        It’s your one day off from work this week and you want to make it count by truly relaxing and reading that book that’s been sitting on your bedside table for a month. You’re on page three. A peanut hits your forehead. “Yes, Harold?”

        “I’m bored,” he whines, crawling across the massive plush sofa and letting his head fall back into your lap, effectively knocking the book out of your hands, you slide a finger between the pages to hold your place.

        “What about the film you were watching?” your hand instinctively fall into his hair, combing through his curls as he adjusts into a more comfortable position in your lap.

Keep reading

3

=D So I was peeping some of the tags and comments from the last Blackout drawings, and I saw that someone wondered how the Dursleys would react to Harry’s new look.

C’mon. Obviously they’d love it. LOL

Post Break Up Fics with a Happy Ending

Ten post break up fics, in which Louis and Harry always find their way back to each other:

The End Should Be A Good One by bananasandboots:

Summary: It doesn’t feel like falling in love, the way it had felt the first time around, easy, simple, almost like floating, wrapped up in a whirlwind of touches and kisses, late nights spent laughing breathlessly into each other’s skin. This feels broken, complicated, like every move carries the weight of their past. Like the floorboards beneath them could collapse at any moment. This doesn’t feel good.

Or, the one where Harry loses the love of his life on New Years Eve and finds him again, six months later, ready to open some poorly-stitched wounds.

Core ‘ngrato by Velvetoscar:

Summary: It’s been over a year since Louis broke up with Harry and Harry still believes in forever. And maybe the world does, too.

Far Away by dimpled_halo:

Summary: Harry swallows hard, clearing his throat. “Hi Lou,” he says, looking at Louis reluctantly. He’s even more gorgeous than he remembers, so much, he feels uneasy looking directly at him, he’s so beautiful.

Louis looks at Harry, does a quick once-over and smiles, eyes so bright and blue—just how Harry remembers. “Harold!” He gets up out of his seat and embraces him into a warm hug. It’s a friendly platonic hug; one that ends way too soon. Harry wishes it would last longer so that he can breathe Louis in and memorize his new but somehow still familiar scent. It instantly leaves his body aching for more.****

Harry returns to London after five years. Stuck in the past with “what ifs” and “what might have beens”, he sees that his friends and ex (and possible love of his life) Louis have all moved on with their lives while he finds himself questioning his own life choices, past and present.

Make My Wish Come True (Baby All I Want For Christmas Is You) by larrymylove:

Summary: Louis has just agreed to spend the holidays with his family, and to bring Harry along with him. There’s just one problem…he and Harry have broken up, and are wanting to avoid telling everyone until after the holidays. The fake/pretend relationship AU with a twist.

like a timebomb ticking by infinitelymint:

Summary: Louis loses everything. Harry’s still there.

Who Knew by sincewewereeighteen:

Summary: Louis remembers clearly the night everything fell apart.

There are moments in life you just can’t forget. For him, there are some that just will never leave his mind: singing Torn, his first Award Ceremony, What Makes You Beautiful on the radio for the first time, bus 1 with Zayn, recording Fireproof with Liam and the sound of Harry’s voice when he told Louis that he loved him, but they were done.

[OR: the one in which my mind goes to a really dark place thanks to this ridiculous reality we’re living right now and Louis cheats on Harry and gets a girl pregnant]

not ready to lose today by imsosorry:

Summary: "I don’t mean, like,“ Louis starts, coughing a bit, "I don’t think he’s become a diva or summat. I’m not trying to start shit. But like - he’s different, yeah? Or am I different?”

“Maybe neither of you is different,” Zayn suggests. “Maybe just, like, your relationship has changed.”

That much is obvious, but the way Zayn says it makes it sound profound.“

Tour’s gonna be weird as fuck,” Louis says with a laugh that’s a lot lighter than how he feels.

(Or, the one where Louis figures it out.)

a grocery list pinned to blue by dangerbears:

Summary: AU. after eight years, louis finally has everything he’s wanted. except for harry.

hold a hand for cover by vashtaneradas:

Summary: they’ve still got all the money in the world, all the big nights and bigger houses, all the people at their doors with singles and album deals and promises of more, they still have all of that, and they will forever. the only thing they’ve burnt through is each other.

or, two years after the band, harry and louis bump into each other for the first time.

god only knows what i’d be without you by squishyniall:

Summary: the one where louis and harry break up and louis’ broken without him

(or another cliché short story where management and eleanor and grimmy get in between their relationship)

Fitting Room Three

Eggsy let the hot water roll over his shoulders, easing away the deep ache in his muscles as the steam thickened the air around him. Lathering his hair with shampoo, he winced at the strain in his back. The last mission he took in Prague had been far rougher than anyone had anticipated, and he was fairly certain there were at least two bruised ribs. Nothing he couldn’t handle, but it was old habit alone that kept him from going to visit Gaius in medical all the same. Rinsing the last of the shampoo out, Eggsy spun the tap and shut off the water, pulling back the curtain and wrapped a towel around his waist. 

Raising a hand to the fogged mirror, Eggsy swiped a hand across it, scowling at his own reflection. His hair had grown out, and even knowing that it allowed him less effort in conforming to what Kingsman considered a perfect gentleman, it was still a hurdle he was getting used to, even after nearly two years.

Leaving the bathroom, Eggsy toweled off the rest of his body as he stood in the walk-in closet. After only a moment’s deliberation he pulled his deep navy pinstripe suit from the bar and laid it on his bed, puttering around his room as he collected a shirt, socks, and a pair of briefs from their respective homes. Laying his holsters next to them, Eggsy rolled the pistol magazines open.

“Guess I’ll need to stop at the shop front, then.” He sighed and tossed the gun onto the mattress. Dressing, a plain deep blue tie was thrown around his neck as he padded back into the bathroom, now thankfully dry, and set about finishing up his morning routine. Hair was gelled, ties were knotted, teeth brushed, glasses on, and just a dab of cologne on his wrists under his watch, Eggsy surveyed his reflection again. Better this time, more like the man Harry would have wanted him to be. 

Eggsy blinked at the way his chest still ached for Harry - it had been what felt like ages since the man’s death, and at the same time felt like no time at all. There were still times when he fancied hearing the older man’s voice in his ear, providing directions.

He left the little room in a hurry.

Keep reading

thephysicsofstandingstill  asked:

16. falling asleep on the couch together 😊💕

okay, here it is! sorry i am so slow.  

Louis let out a soft, involuntary sound when he twitched awake, smacking his lips a little as he came to in the dark.  His eyes felt sleep-swollen and dry, and he squeezed them shut as quickly as they fluttered open, taking a long breath before he reached an arm out to unsuccessfully fumble around on the coffee table for his phone.

“Shit,” he whispered, letting his hand flop back down onto his chest.  Shit.    

Louis didn’t know what time it was, but he knew it was late — well after midnight, but not closed to dawn.  Maybe 2:00 or 3:00, given the complete lack of light behind his eyelids.  Everything was quiet, too, so still that he could hear the persistent ticking of the watch on his wrist and the hum of the refrigerator coming from the kitchen.  

“Harry,” Louis said softly, jostling his shoulder slightly under Harry’s head.  They’d fallen asleep in the living room together again, and Harry’s long body was sandwiched between Louis’s and the back of the couch.  He was plastered right up against Louis, really, making Louis sweaty-hot on one side and just a little too cold on the other, since there wasn’t a blanket.  “Harry, wake up.”

Harry only moaned in protest in his sleep, pressing even closer, and Louis huffed out a laugh, frowning at that bittersweet rush that followed after.  

Shit.      

Louis  kind of hated falling asleep on the couch instead of getting up to go to bed, to begin with.  He always got this strange sort of guilt when it happened — like whenever he napped for too long on Saturday afternoons — a lingering sense that he’d overindulged himself somehow, was lazy and aimless underneath it all.  He’d always trudge around his apartment afterward, full of self-pity and sadness, missing his mother.

Missing home.  

That’s why it was even worse when it happened with Harry.  So very close, but not close enough.  Not the way Louis really wanted.  This was the third time this month they’d drifted off watching Criminal Minds, and Louis cursed himself internally as he opened his eyes and shifted to nudge Harry again, trying wake him up so they could both head off to their respective rooms where they could sleep for real.  And where Louis could wallow in his pathetic longing and guilt all alone.    

“Harry!” he said more sharply, shoving at Harry’s shoulder with his hand now.  

“Hmmm?” Harry murmured, face still pushed into the meat of Louis’s bicep, his lips vibrating against Louis’s bare skin.  

Louis’s chest ached.  Harry was barely illuminated, the blue glow coming off the router box that sat next to the television the only light in the room, but Louis’s heart clenched and then soften at the sight of him anyway.  Rounded cheeks and endless eyelashes and sleep matted curls.  Beautiful.    

Get over it.  Just let it go.  

It’s time for bed,” Louis said, barely stopping himself from running a hand through Harry’s hair, “we fell asleep.”

Harry slumped toward him in response, slinging a heavy arm across Louis’s torso and sending a thrill through him in the process.  “No more Crimsy Minds?” he asked.  

Louis chuckled, helplessly endeared. “No more Crimsy,” he said, “just sleep.”

Harry nodded his head against Louis arm, eyes still shut.  He tightened his grip around Louis.  “Want —“ he yawned, big and slow like a lion, his tongue lolling, “want to sleep with you…”

Louis let out another involuntary noise, this one pained and alarmingly high-pitched.  He flushed at his reaction, sitting up quickly and shifting away to hide his embarrassment.  Shifting away until suddenly he’d cast Harry completely off and was on his feet. “Um.”  

Harry was squinting up at him, blinking rapidly in confusion.  

Fuck.  

Louis could usually handle this.  Well, outwardly anyway.  But at that moment it felt like too much.   Like he just couldn’t anymore.  Not tonight.  As though his heart would break in half if he and Harry slept side by side in bed, and he had to lie there missing Harry even though he was mere inches away.  

He watched Harry fully wake up, peering at Louis as his confusion melted into hurt and worry.  “What’s wrong?” Harry croaked, moving to sit up so that his ridiculous feet were planted on the floor on either side of Louis’s, his fingers reaching out for the hem of Louis’s t-shirt.

“Nothing,” Louis lied, shying away from the touch slightly, “I’m just.  You know.  Tired.”  He gave a fake laugh. “It’s late, so.  I’m tired.”  

“Tired,” Harry repeated slowly, dropping his head, “Oh.  okay…”  

Harry sat for a few seconds, nodding, seemingly to himself, and there was something about the downturned twist to his mouth that tugged at Louis, cracked him open.  

 “Harry?”

When Harry lifted his head again Louis almost choked, stunned at the emotion he saw mirrored back at him.  “Har — “ he tried, swallowing hard over the lump in his throat.  He was absolutely lit up with hope, nerves misfiring all over the place.  “Harry.”

Harry made a small noise of his own and grabbed Louis’s left hand with both of his, drawing it to his chest.  “I want — “ Harry’s lips curled into a heart-stopping and sheepish half-smile as he blinked up at Louis in the dark. “Let’s go to bed.”  

anonymous asked:

my heart aches thinking of harry asking for kisses

He’d ALWAYS ask his missus for kisses, despite the atmosphere surrounding the two of them. Because he just loves that specific gesture of showing love to her.

If they were in bed, morning or night, and spooning as close as they could on the mattress, yet still not close enough to suffice him, he’d always kiss around up her back and up her shoulder to the place at the back of her neck where he’s strain his neck and lean over, peppering kisses to her cheek before grinning at her, “gi’me a kiss, love. Yeh’re not close enough to me.”

If they were in the house together, but doing separate tasks, he’d always send her a text, asking her to join him in his office because he needed to ask her something. And when she’d poke her head round the door, she’d see him with tousled and tugged-on hair, eyes hooded and a pencil between his lips, his journal wide open on an empty page, “c’mere. V’got no inspiration and a kiss’ll do just fine.”

If she was out with Adie or Gemma, or maybe even her mother who decided to pay a visit to London, he’d bombard her with text after text, begging her to come home because his lips felt lonely. Sending her pouted selfies to make her giggle before she’d excuse herself and give him a call, “yeh’ve been gone too long for their liking, love. My lips are gettin’ a little lonely here on my face. Yeh gon’a be home soon to give ‘em some company?”

And, god, if they’ve had an argument and they’re both sitting on opposite ends of the sofa, it would be the first thing out of his mouth to break the silence. His eyes staring her up and down, watching her movements as she tried hard to focus on the telly, his knees pulled up to his chest as he sat facing her, “gi’me a kiss. Can’t stay mad at me forever,” he’d stick his foot out, dragging his toe up her thigh and smirk when she’d swat at him and push his ankle, “c’mon. Yeh’ve always kissed me after arguments.” 

When they’re out in public and he’s feeling a little PDA-y, he’d keep looking down at her and looking away when she caught his eye contact, rolling her eyes as they continued to walk down the streets, their arms swinging between them and locked at the hands, “can yeh gi’me one quick kiss? No paps are here. Just one? Please?” xx