REDAMANCY [h.s. au]

39

"He's more myself than I am.
Whatever our souls are made of,
his and mine are the same."
- Emily Brontë

⭑Holland⭑

"Can you help me with this?" I ask, pulling my curled hair to the side so Harry can zip up the black dress I have on.

My back to him, he pulls the zipper all the way up effortlessly and then spins me back around. "God, you're so pretty," he remarks taking me in.

"You like it?" I coyly ask with a burgeoning smile.

It's really a rather simple dress—black, strapless, hits around the mid-thigh. But I will say, that it does hug my curves and make my legs look long. And by the look that Harry is giving me, he seems to agree.

"Love it," he states, pupils dilating. A kiss to my freshly glossed lips and then mumbles against them, "Love you."

His hands trail down my back, sliding right over my arse and giving it a gentle squeeze. His mouth quickening on mine, brazen and deliberate. A little love bite to my lip. My hand tugging at his curls. "Mm, we gotta get going," I mutter, even though I don't want to detach myself from him.

"We can be a little late, can't we?" He pouts with his hands planters firmly on my bus still.

"It's a surprise party, Harry!" I giggle. "So no. We can't be late."

He tips his head back and groans. "Okay, okay! Just making sure."

"Mhmm," I hum. I search the room for where I placed my little black shoulder bag and shove the pink gloss I'm wearing into it so I can retouch later as needed. Harry finishes the watered down whiskey that sits on his nightstand and pats his pocket, making sure his wallet is in fact in there.

I shuffle across the hardwood floor in the pointed toe kitten heels I wear, they're already starting to hurt and I've only had them on for 20 minutes. But, once I get there and get a glass or two of champagne in me, I'm hoping the pinching pain that my toes feel will subside.

I grab the black wool jacket from the coat rack and slide it on. The early January air is cold and uninviting. Harry puts on one of his warmer coats, too, before we thrust ourselves out into the wintry London streets, hand in hand.

The nice restaurant that Zoey's new boyfriend booked for her surprise party slash dinner is only about a 10 minutes from our place so we decide to brave it in the cold and walk. The air hits my face and instantly awakens me. I can see my breath through the dark, evening atmosphere around us. But Harry's hand is warm as ever in mine.

"Do you think Zoey has any idea?" Harry asks me.

"I don't think so. Yesterday at work she seemed a little disappointed that all she's doing is going to dinner with Ellis," I reply.

"So she's gonna be pretty surprised then," he remarks with a smile.

"Hopefully the good kind of surprised," I laugh.

"Yeah, let's hope it's not like the surprise party mum planned for my 16th birthday. I was so caught off guard and scared, I almost peed myself."

"So I should go ahead and cancel the surprise party I planned for you next month?" I joke.

Harry's 30th is in about 3 weeks. All he asked for is a casual get-together with all the people he loves. I was planning on doing something more extravagant—30 is a big one. It's also been quite the year, quite the journey to that birthday. I want to celebrate it accordingly, celebrate him because he is the best person I've ever had to pleasure to know and love. And I'll honor that with the kind of party he wants. Nothing big, no surprises. Just a room vibrating with love from all the people in his life.