PETAL | HARRY STYLES

TWENTY-EIGHT.

Over the next few weeks, Fleur and Harry spent their time in Japan lavishly. Together, they went everywhere, latched onto each other like peas in a pod. If you saw one, the other wasn't too far.

That's exactly how they wanted it to be.

There were a lot of drunken nights and the two of them stumbling down the streets of Tokyo, hand in hand and giggling like children. Eventually having to duck and hide from the paparazzi that had found them.

More time had been spent in the large house they were staying in. Spending nights and mornings reading or watching movies or getting distracted during said movies because Harry did not know how to keep his hands to himself.

It's happiness in its purest form for them.

They love Japan.

But, as it gets closer to Harry's birthday, it seems Japan is becoming just a distant memory. And when Fleur drops down on his lap as he strums his guitar out on the patio, she asks him what he wants to do for his birthday.

To which he pauses strumming and sits in thought.

"I don't know." Is all he can say at the moment.

It's not until that same night, while they sleep in the warmth of each other that he knows his answer. And despite how beautiful she looks sound asleep, his eagerness becomes so overwhelming he has to shake her awake.

"What's going on?" She stirs, sitting up quickly as she sees his back is against the headboard.

"Let's go to Italy." He speaks, his eyes glistening with excitement.

Fleur can't help but let out a soft laugh, running her fingers through her tangled hair.

"Italy? That's what you want?"

He nods rapidly, "There's nothing more that I want than to see you in the streets of Venice. As well as my sheets in Venice...naked..."

"Please...you can see me in your sheets naked anytime you want."

Harry faces her, grinning, "Is that so?"

Fleur immediately senses the urgency in his eyes now. A look she's seen plenty of times now. And frankly, the way the spot in between her legs began to ache just by his darkening eyes is enough.

Without hesitation, she throws herself on top of him, straddling his lap as his hands grip her waist. Their lips connect, feverish kisses being shared with need.

"So, Italy?" She breathlessly asks as his lips trail down to her neck.

"Italy." He replies, causing her head to fly back at the euphoric feeling of his vibrating voice against her skin.

Pulling his shirt up to desperately kiss his hot flesh, she laughs.

"Sounds good."

-

By morning, they're running toward the steps to the private plane that awaits them. Bags in their hands, their free ones laced together as they giggle mischievously.

His birthday is in two days but he finds himself more ecstatic over the fact that he's going to be spending it with her. Frankly, she's a lot more excited for his birthday than himself.

But she thinks that's how it should be.

In the jet, they hurry to the back, a string of laughter leaving Fleur's lips as Harry falls back onto a seat. She's quick to straddle his lap, her hands on his shoulders as he stares up at her.

Beaming, she kisses his face all over while he holds her in place, smiling so hard it hurts. Her lips attack his neck and he cups her face to pull her back to his own face.