September 1 1963

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The days went on and the love never died. But it seemed Harry was growing weaker by the day as well. He no longer would comb back his hair, instead letting it fall messily, everywhere. He also loved to take baths, in which I had to wash him due to his shaky hands.

He never showed weakness though. He would always have a smile planted upon his face. I knew Harry looked ill and I even suggested that he go to the clinic, but he told me that he refused to leave my side. And I argued that he was insane and he replied curtly, "Insane for you."

And so our afternoon went like it had for the past week, me tending to Harry's every need because he was what I needed.

"Could you get me some juice?"

"If you go to the clinic."

"Well I wasn't that thirsty."

"Harry, why don't you want to go to the clinic? You look like you've caught a bug."

"Because I don't want to hear them tell me a load of rubbish. I just want to be with you all day and everyday."

"Although that's sweet, Harry. I think you still need a checkup to make sure it's nothing serious."

"No." He groaned, digging his head into my kneck, as if trying to hide from this conversation.

"Harry ever since you went out that one day, you've looked completely awful. Is there something you forgot to mention?"

"Not at all. I probably ate something rotten and it's just upsetting my stomach. Stop worrying, love."

"Fine."

"Now how about that juice?"

"You have two legs, Mr. Styles."

"Well Mrs. Styles, I'm a bit strained at the moment, so be a darling and get it, yes?"

"Don't call me Mrs. Styles."

"Why not?"

"We're not married, that's why!"

"But were going to be."

My breath hitched, my stomach churning from his sudden words. Of course I want to marry Harry. There's no doubt in my mind. It's just the realization of it, left me searching for words to reply back to him.

Just the thought of being with Harry for the rest of my life, makes my toes curl and those beautiful butterflies erupt in my stomach. I never thought in all of my years with boys, that I'd find one roaming the streets for the same reason as mine. It was fate, or so i'd like to believe.

"I love you."

"I love you. So what do you say about marriage?"

"If you go to the clinic." I replied in a sing-song voice.

"Looks like I will have to find someone else to marry."

"Harry, don't say that." I whined, pushing his head off of my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, love. I just want to spend the rest of my life with you." He looked at me before attacking my face with wet kiss, making me giggle like a little school girl.

"Stop. Harry, get off. My face is all wet."

He brought his face up so our eyes were level, a grin tugging at his lips. We sat like this for a few moments before he finally spoke up.

"Did you know you are truly beautiful?"

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as I found myself looking anywhere but towards him. He pulled my face in between his palms before bringing me into a passionate kiss, laced with all of the words I wanted to say but couldn't find myself to actually form into words.

Once air became our first necessity, we slowly pulled away, enveloping each other with our warm bodies.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think it's crazy that we fell in love in less than four days of knowing eachother?"

"It feels like I've known you my whole life, but just now got the privilege to make you mine. Like you were waiting for a taxi that you whistled down three times and one finally pulling up and showing you the beauties in life. I don't think it's crazy. To be completely honest with you, I feel like it's so true and meaningful. We were both set to marry someone we had met once before and felt nothing towards them, except their money. I think it's beautiful that we found something so quick and are making it last."

"Who knew an odd-ball like you, would come up with just beautiful words to say."

"Well I am a beautiful person." He smirked before giving me a playful wink.

"That you are." I leaned over to plant a soft kiss to his lips, letting it linger for a few seconds before pulling away and smiling.

...

"Goodnight, beautiful."

"I'm not beautiful, Harry. Beautiful died with Marilyn Monroe last year."

"But you are so much better than Marilyn Monroe, love. You are my beautiful and amazing Elizabeth, who gave beautiful a rebirth."

"Harry could you be anymore romantic?"

"I try my best."

"It sickens me."

"Well too bad, love. Go get a straw out of the kitchen and suck it up."

"You're so mean!"

"It's the truth!"

"Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight my beautiful Elizabeth. Hope your dreams are sweet, just like you."

"Harry, you're being romantic again."

"Oh I'm so sorry my darling, beautiful girlfriend."

"Are you doing it on purpose now?"

"Maybe."

"Go to bed."

"That's all I get? 'Go to bed?' And after all I said to you!"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"Fine. I guess I will just go to sleep."

"Harry, don't be such a baby." I groaned.

"But I didn't get a proper goodnight."

"Fine. 'Goodnight my handsome and charming boyfriend, Harry Styles.' There are you happy?"

"Yes very. Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight, Harry."

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