Sugar (Harry Styles)

16.

A/N: This chapter does contain sexually suggestive/explicit content. Enjoy or skip… whatever you wanna do. :-)

The news segment that went up seemed to go well enough, people truly believed in the bakery and it’s magic to help people be happy and to fall in love. The only interview that seemed to state the opposite was Evan. How they found him out of all of Holmes Chapel baffled Harry but Daphne knew better. Love always found opposition from those who simply were jealous. It was the curse of Aphrodite. Though she was the Goddess of Love, she herself would often cause the quarrels, her jealousy overruling any sound judgment she could make. 

Evan of course couldn’t keep his mouth shut, saying how everyone was just under a spell. That Daphne was really a witch and would stop at nothing to ruin people’s lives. That Harry and her had devised some kind of plot to rob people of their money by adding something addictive to their goods, making them come back for more.

Daphne took the words in stride. She had heard them before and she was sure she would hear them later. Harry on the other hand was no so cool. He was angry that the male was so dead-set on ruining the bakery’s name, and shunning Daphne. He couldn’t believe what he said.

Daphne was glad that Harry invited her over after the interview to his place so they could watch the news together. She didn’t anticipate that they would’ve found Evan, she hadn’t seen him since he attacked her on her way home and it was probably for the best. She knew that Harry was displeased, his arms crossing over his chest and his face turning to slate.

“It was just Evan,” Daphne whispered as she moved closer to him on the couch, her arm going around his shoulders as her other hand played with the chains around his neck. “We can’t take anything he says seriously.”

“He said you were a witch.” Harry gritted, “That we’re drugging the town.”

“No one believes him, darling.” Daphne whispered against Harry’s jaw, placing a few kisses in hopes of softening him up.

“Well what if someone does!?” Harry asked with worry, his eyes looking up at Daphne as she curled up to him.

“Then they’ll watch as we make everything from scratch and with love, and they’ll realize he’s a liar.” She pressed her forehead to his and watched as he relaxed under her stare.

Harry just nodded slowly and watched as Daphne’s fingers dipped below the neck of his shirt and ran over one of the swallows on his chest. Harry reached around and wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close and sighing deeply as he stared blankly at the television in front of them.

“What we’re doing is right,” Daphne whispered, “This was all supposed to happen. The Fates won’t guide us wrong.” She leaned forward and kissed his temple, nuzzling him sweetly.

Harry settled into his place with Daphne in his arms. He thought about what she said, that this was all supposed to happen. He couldn’t deny the truth. He had fallen in love with this girl; at least he thought it was love. A few weeks ago he didn’t know what that was even like. He recalled the conversation they had about love and how neither of them had ever been in it. Harry watched as Daphne found the inside of his forearm and traced delicately over the burn that had been left from one of the first days of them baking together. Even then he knew she was different, that she could quell certain things inside him that seemed to go unrested.

“I love you,” Harry whispered, his eyes looking down at the light pink scar on his white skin. He had mouthed it to her in the bakery but had never said it out loud to her. He felt that words like that needed vocalization, tone and meaning behind them.