If I could fly (BOOK 2)

No?

The water was deeper than Harry expected.

Not shallow, not playful-real. Cool and steady around his ribs, lifting them both as the tide rolled in slow, patient swells. He adjusted his footing once, then again, until the sand dropped away beneath them and they were fully buoyant, held by the sea instead of standing on it. Y/N wrapped herself around his waist without hesitation, legs locking behind him, her body rising and falling with his as the water carried them. He slid his hands beneath her thighs first, then higher-firm at her waist-pulling her closer until their chests pressed together and the space between them disappeared completely. Her arms looped around his neck, fingers brushing the damp ends of his hair where it escaped the tight bun at the back of his head.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "Yeah. Just... here."

Out beyond them, Anne floated with Darcy secured against her, keeping a respectful distance. Darcy kicked happily every time a swell lifted her, delighted little sounds drifting across the water. Harry rested his forehead against Y/N's. The ocean rocked them gently, a slow rhythm that made everything else feel far away.

"I'm not really scared anymore," he said quietly.

She tilted her head. "No?"

"Just nervous," he admitted. "Which feels... manageable."

Her thumb traced along his jaw. "That's growth."

He huffed a soft laugh. "Is that what this is?"

"I think so."

A stronger wave rolled in without warning, lifting them higher than the others had. The water surged suddenly around Harry's shoulders, buoyant and insistent, and instinct took over.

His grip tightened immediately-arms firm around Y/N's waist as he pulled her closer, anchoring them together as the swell carried them up and then slowly lowered them again.

She laughed softly, breathless, chest pressed to his. Her arms tightened around his neck, fingers sliding into the damp hair at the nape of his neck.

When the water settled, she looked at him, eyes bright and unmistakably playful.

"I hope that happens again," she said quietly.

His eyebrows lifted. "Yeah?"

"I liked it," she added, leaning in just enough to make it dangerous. "Both of us up like that."

His mouth curved into a slow, knowing smile. "Good," he murmured. "Because I wasn't letting go either way."

Another wave rolled beneath them, gentler this time, rocking them together. Harry kept his hold firm anyway, thumbs pressing into her back like he was reminding both of them exactly where they were.

"I'm proud of you," she said softly. "Even with the final show coming."

His jaw tightened slightly. "That one's going to hurt."

"I know," she murmured. "But you don't have to be strong the whole time."

He closed his eyes briefly, breathing her in. "I don't feel like I'm doing it alone anymore."

"You aren't," she said simply.

Harry lifted his head and glanced toward Anne and Darcy. Darcy squealed again, delighted by another small swell, and Anne laughed, steady and watchful.

"That's my girl," Harry said, warmth spreading through him.

They stayed there a while longer, floating together, the ocean holding them as much as they held each other.

⸻

Dinner that night felt unhurried, like the day had stretched time thin.They sat outside, the ocean dark and endless behind them, candles flickering between plates. Darcy had fallen asleep earlier than usual, worn out from the water, leaving the table quieter than it had been all week.

Anne sipped her wine, eyes thoughtful. "So," she said gently, "how's the album feeling?"

Harry leaned back in his chair, considering. "Unfinished. In the best way." He shrugged. "Ideas mostly. Nothing fully written yet."

"That's exactly where it should be," Y/N said.

He smiled at her. "It feels honest."

Anne nodded. "You've never rushed the things that matter."

Harry looked down at his hands. "I don't want it to sound like escape music."

"Then don't write it like you're running," Anne said softly. "Write it like you're staying."

That settled into him.

Y/N reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "You are staying."

He met her eyes, something steady forming in his chest. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I am."

The conversation drifted after that-to food, to the weather, to Darcy's newest sounds-but the weight of it stayed light. Nothing needed solving tonight.

Later, as they walked back toward the house, Harry slid his arm around Y/N's waist again, pulling her close like it was instinct now.

"Thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"For believing me when I say I'm figuring it out."

She leaned into him, smiling. "You don't have to be finished becoming. I'll love you through all of it."

He kissed the top of her head, the ocean breathing quietly beside them.

For now-held by water, by choice, by the life they were building-that was enough.