red and black with christmas wreath

Fresh eyes

Today’s blogmas entry is a little shorter than normal but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I x

Harry and Y/N go to their first high profile event together and Harry can’t take his eyes off her. 2k.

Harry’s living room was aglow with the warm light of Christmas fairy lights. There were some hung from the fireplace and added to the ones that adorned the tree you didn’t need much other light but despite that Harry had several candles burning making the place feel warmer and smell delightful. Most people would be burning, sweet, Christmas scents at this time of year but Harry still opted for deep musky, and fresh scents that made him feel peaceful. 

This year was the first year that Harry had decorated his Christmas tree with a girlfriend. He’d been with Y/N last Christmas but only for just over a month so he thought it might be too forward to ask her to come Christmas tree shopping with him. This year they’d both driven out into the countryside and spent the day wondering around a little village and enjoying tea and cake before choosing the perfect tree for Harry’s living room.

Harry smiled as he looked at the tree. It was so tall he’d had to lift Y/N off the ground slightly so she could put the star on the top of it. They’d decorated it together and it was perfect to him. The decorations were a mismatch of baubles and other hanging ornaments he’d collected from different places around the wold when he’d been away in the festive period. He’d asked Y/N to choose a decoration this year to put on the tree. She’d chosen a plain white bauble hand painted with the year in the middle encircled by a green wreath with red spots for winter berries.

He left the living room for the kitchen and poured himself a neat whisky. He took a sip and let the deep brown liquid drain down his throat, burning as it went. He couldn’t feel more in the Christmas spirit if he tried. He was dressed in a black velvet suit; the jacket collar was silk and he had done it up across his stomach. The trousers had a silk strip up the seam of the leg. Underneath he wore a white, silk shirt tucked into his trousers. He had a black tie around his neck but wore it underneath the shirt and tucked it in where the shirt was done up which, in true Harry fashion, was so far down his chest bone so that when he bent over it gaped to show off his toned chest and nearly his stomach. Simple black leather boots adorned his feet.

Y/N had helped him choose the outfit though she hadn’t let him see even one of the dresses she’d been sent for the event. This would be the first event they were going to together as a couple. Of course, after over a year of dating they’d been seen out and about together but never at an official event. Harry knew Y/N was nervous about it, she’d had cameras in her face every now and again. Leaving One Direction concerts, leaving hotels with Harry, even out shopping when they’d been spotted but this was different all eyes would be on them and tomorrow they’d be in every magazine and on every Celebrity gossip website not to mention social media. Even so Harry couldn’t wait to attend his first event as a couple, arriving together, sitting together, leaving together.

Harry heard footsteps coming down the stairs so he made his way out to the hallway with his, now, nearly empty glass of whiskey. He stood against the wall at the bottom of the stairs and waited for Y/N to make an appearance.

His jaw nearly hit the floor. The dress was the colour of red wine and would have brushed the floor if she wasn’t holding it up slightly so as not to trip. As she stepped forward the dress separated over her left leg where it split up to her mid-thigh. The top of the dress went up to her neck and Harry could tell it was done up at the back of her neck. It hugged her body showing off the curve of her breasts, waist and hips but flowed down to the floor in waves. She had silver shoes on, a band across her toes and one around her ankle. Harry stepped forward and took her hand as she took the last step onto the wooden floor of the hallway.

‘Wow you look amazing.’ Harry told her pressing a kiss to her lips that had been painted a matte nude shade. Her skin was glowing and her hair was pulled back into a loose braided updo. A few strands fell around her face and down her neck in waves. He’d never seen her look like this and she looked absolutely incredible.

‘You don’t look so bad yourself Styles.’ She smiled letting the bottom of her dress fall to the floor so it now covered her shoes. Harry let her hand fall from his too.

‘How did I get so lucky?’ He couldn’t resist, he put his arm around her and pulled her body close to his, crashing into one another and crashing his lips onto hers but being careful not to smudge her expertly done make up. His hand was on her bare back, to his surprise he let it roam up her spine working out where the fabric of the dress ended and her bare skin started.

‘Well maybe I should dress up like this more often.’ Y/N mumbled against his lips before kissing him again.

‘I’m sorry love, you just look so good.’ Harry told her taking her in completely again. The dress suited her to a tea, it looked like it was made for her. The colour complimented her skin tone and hair colour perfectly, it fitted her body like a glove in the places it was meant to and made, who to Harry was, the most beautiful person he’d laid eyes on, look even more beautiful. ‘Are you ready to go?’ Y/N nodded and took Harry’s outstretched hand and let him lead her towards the door and to the car waiting outside for the pair.

Harry felt like a stereotypical bloke. His girlfriend put on a fancy dress, made a bit more effort than normal with her makeup and did something fancy with her and he couldn’t take his eyes of her. Harry had always thought Y/N looked best chilling out in her black Calvin Klein leggings, his Packers hoodie, her make up taken off and moisturiser on and her hair tied up in a messy bun on top of her head, cuddled on the couch ready for a cosy night in with him. She looked the most at home and the most like her. She was a relaxed down to earth person and that was why he’d fallen in love her, she looked like that when he realised he was indeed in love with her and when he told her he loved her for the first time. This dressed up version of Y/N wasn’t really like her but Harry couldn’t deny she looked fantastic. And he felt he was falling head over heels for her all over again.

Harry and Y/N both sat next to the windows in the car their hands meeting and holding onto one another on the middle seat. Y/N looked out of the window a sweet, soft smile on her face as she took in all the Christmas lights that hung from street lamps and the bridges they drove over. But Harry looked at her and smiled with her as she took in London at Christmas. It was a beautiful sight to see, the city alight with Christmas bulbs, shop windows filled to the brim with beautiful decorations and festive cheer filling everybody. But to Harry looking at Y/N staring out of the window into the bright night was even more beautiful. He felt like he was looking at her for the first time. He had the same feeling he had when he first laid eyes on her. She was waiting for coffee whilst he was ordering his. She had blue denim jeans on, an oversized sweater and her hair was tied back in a ponytail. He later discovered she was suffering from an horrendous hangover but he’d still not been able to take his eyes of her after noticing her which just made him even more certain he had to get to know her better. He shuffled over to her feeling like the luckiest guy in the world. He let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulders. She turned to look at him, her eyes lit up with the lights coming through the window and her face alight with happiness and a smile.

‘I’m sorry I don’t appreciate you enough love.’ Harry said softly ensuring the driver couldn’t hear their intimate conversation. He was sure he probably wouldn’t have been able to due to the divider between the front and back of the car but Harry wanted to be positive this was just between him and Y/N, who shook her head gently.

‘I think that’s just what happens when you’re together for a while.’ Harry furrowed his brow, he wasn’t sure he liked those words. ‘You just fall into routine and forget about all those things from the beginning,’ He was concerned. He wanted and felt like their relationship was filled with as much love, lust and everything else as it had been in the beginning. He was worried she didn’t feel the same. ‘It’s not a bad thing H, I’m so happy with our relationship and how good it is and how far we’ve come, everyone’s relationships change it doesn’t mean I love you any less or don’t want to be with you.’

‘I really do love you though Y/N.’ Harry let her know though they both knew she already knew. He didn’t miss an opportunity to show her or tell her how much he loved her or how much she meant to him.

‘I know I love you too.’ Y/N smiled giving him one single kiss.

The car pulled to a stop and they both turned, flashing lights visible through the windows. The door opened and the camera flashes got even brighter. Harry slid out of the car not even looking at the cameras for a second but turning straight back to give Y/N his hand to take so he could help her from the car. She stepped down and her dress fell to the floor, the cold winter air put goose bumps on her skin instantly. People were already calling their names and Harry encouraged Y/N forward to the man with the large camera who was calling her name. Everyone was always more interested in the women at these events, everyone wanted to know what they were wearing and Harry was sure everyone would be saying how amazing his girlfriend looked tonight and everyone would know she was his. Harry even took his own phone from his pocket and took a photo of her whilst she was distracted by the people calling her name to get a photo of her looking straight down the lens.

Harry swooped in after a few seconds, pressed a kiss to her temple and wrapped an arm around her waist looking at the camera as the photographers took photos of them together against the boards that had been put up for the event. The name of the event on them and the sponsor also. Harry let his hand roam letting it drop for her waist to her bum. His hand wandered a little but couldn’t feel the line of any underwear. He knew she wasn’t wearing a bra as there was no strap across her back but he thought she’d be wearing knickers of some kind under the beautiful dress.

‘Have you got anything on under this dress.’ Harry whispered in her ear. Y/N giggled and shook her head not looking at Harry but continuing to focus on the camera. She felt him take a deep breath beside her though, and he stood up straighter puffing his chest out slightly. ‘Well I’ll be showing you just how much I appreciate you when we get home.’ Harry whispered darkly.

‘As if you’ll be able to wait that long.’ Y/N muttered as they walked away from the cameras towards the line of journalists with microphones and throngs of fans.

#1: The Christmas Tree Farm Is Closed This Year

Length: Long

Mr. Partridge has been dead for at least a decade. I don’t remember him much; I mostly remember him as a large, burly man with broad shoulders and a gruff manner. He planted a Christmas tree farm, and he ran it with the aid of his wife and four sons. The Christmas tree farm took up a few acres of land behind the Partridge homestead. Hills of festive green trees rose up behind the house, making it look like a quaint little cottage in the middle of an enchanted forest.

Mrs. Partridge is the sweetest little old lady you could ever hope to meet. She loved the Christmas tree farm as much as her husband, and she poured every ounce of herself into it right up until the end. She baked gingerbread cookies by the hundreds and kept a vat of piping hot cider on the front porch. The cookie and cider stand was manned by her grandchildren and the money it made went to the local high school.

We’ve always gotten our Christmas trees from the Partridge farm, and when I entered my freshman year of high school, Mrs. Partridge said I could make a little extra Christmas cash working with her sons and grandkids. Most of the local kids either worked or volunteered at her Christmas tree farm, and I had a lot of fun until this past Friday, when the farm was shut down.

The Christmas tree farm officially opens on Black Friday. The mall may be crowded with early-bird shoppers, but once they’ve got the hot new toy of the season, they need a Christmas tree to put it under. From sunup to sunset, Mrs. Partridge and her granddaughters churn out gingerbread men while her sons, grandsons, and everyone else helps shoppers find the perfect Christmas tree.

I know I’ve painted the Christmas tree farm as this cozy little haven, but working there has made me a little jaded. Don’t get me wrong, Mrs. Partridge is an amazing woman, and there are times when I loved my job. But, as with every job, not every day is going to be sunshine and gingerbread men. The bigger, taller boys – myself included – we’re the ones lugging the tree to the car, hoisting it onto the roof, and tying it down. It’s not unusual to head home at the end of the day with aching arms and a sore back.

I still had fun, though. After all, most of my friends worked for Mrs. Partridge, and it did give me an excuse to hang out with her granddaughter, Samantha. Samantha was in my Spanish class, and while I floundered and got verb tenses mixed up, she took to it easily and made it sound like the most beautiful language I’d ever heard. I would fantasize about having her tutor me, but never got up the nerve to ask her for help.

At least at the Christmas tree farm, I had an excuse to talk to her. She was usually helping her grandmother with the endless batch of gingerbread cookies, but she’d occasionally come out of the house, smelling like cinnamon, to help put together wreaths and garlands.

Anyway, the farm was mobbed with Black Friday shoppers looking for the perfect Christmas tree. The crowd was thick and energetic; parents carried babies bundled into snowsuits and older kids ran amok, playing hide and seek in the false forest. I caught brief glimpses of Samantha as she handed out gingerbread men and styrofoam cups of steaming cider. She was wearing a sparkly red sweater and jeans that might’ve once been dark blue; they were spattered with flour. Her black hair was tied back with a festive green ribbon, and she was beaming as she leaned down, offering fresh cookies to small children.

The Christmas tree farm closes at sunset, and the crowd had begun to wind down by threeish, seeing as the sun was due to go down at 4:15pm. I was attempting to tie a six-foot tree to a VW Beetle when I noticed the kid for the first time. I didn’t really pay any attention to him, but given what happened later, he stands out in my memory.

Cutting down the Christmas tree is always a family affair, but sometimes you can tell that the older kids don’t want to be there. This kid was maybe twelve or thirteen. He was wearing a dark gray hoodie and was thoroughly engrossed in something on his cell phone. His mother looked harried, as if she might burst into frustrated tears at any given moment. A wailing baby was strapped to her chest, and she was pushing a red-faced toddler in a cheap plastic stroller. I’m no expert on baby carriages, but I knew that this thing would be a bitch and a half to navigate through the grass and mud. The woman fumbled with the stroller, trying to shush the crying toddler. A small, yappy dog pranced energetically around her heels barking its head off.

“Dammit, Aiden, help me with the dog!” the woman’s voice was thin and hoarse. She must’ve wrangled these kids and the dog through a crowded mall before she even arrived at the Christmas tree farm. Part of me wanted to take her by the arm, lead her back to her car, and tell her to go home and get some sleep. There were more than enough trees to go around; she could come back tomorrow without the kids.

The older kid – Aiden – grabbed the dog’s leash and jerked it away from his mother without bothering to look up from his phone. The dog promptly turned to Aiden and began to bark again. Aiden trailed after his mom as she brought the wailing baby and the sobbing toddler out among the trees.

This wasn’t a really unusual sight. I’d seen disinterested kids and crying babies at the Christmas tree farm before. Sometimes, I think parents underestimate the amount of energy their kids have. Tromping around a chilly Christmas tree farm for hours might be OK for Mom and Dad, but I’ve noticed that the littler kids tend to get tuckered out quickly and get bored even faster. At some point, all the Christmas trees start to look the same, and the kid doesn’t care about whether or not it’s “shelfy” enough or how much needs to be cut off the top so it’ll fit in the living room.

The guys and I managed to finish tying the Christmas tree to the top of the VW Beetle, and I forgot all about Aiden and his beleaguered mother. We were quickly distracted by the sound of shouting.

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