Cannes | H.S

Lavender

Layla

He encourages me to remain quiet as we sneak past the remainder of the kitchen staff, each of us gripping a bottle of left over and unwanted champagne in our hands. I follow him quietly as we step into the moonlight, walking further and further into the depths of the breathtaking vineyard. The smell of sour grapes and the tranquil sea nearby is euphoric as we decide to settle comfortably down on the ground. A worldly known musician pops open a single bottle, causing the liquid to pour down onto his arms without a care. We don't bother to find glasses because it's just the two of us in this very moment. He offers me the first taste and once I bring it up to my mouth, it tastes of absolute summertime perfection in a bottle. He watches me, accepting the bottle in return, taking a big old gulp as I lay down, witnessing the moon and the stars from below. The wedding ending in a great success as Gemma and Mikhal rode off towards their destined honeymoon, leaving behind a heart broken Anne. I hoped to provide some comfort, allowing her tears to fall onto my shoulder as she waved goodbye to her only daughter from afar.

And as the guests began to slowly say their congratulations and farewells, Harry and I decided to call it a night. We headed back to our room, changing into more appropriate attire. Yet, we were running on adrenaline and a sugar rush from all the dessert we consumed earlier, too wired to earn an appropriate ounce of sleep. Considering his dear mother rests in the room next door, we decided to find some privacy at such a ridiculous hour in the Italian vineyards. We finish the first bottle between the two of us in a number of minutes, deciding to gain our strength for a while as we both lay on the ground. The man next to me hums joyfully, glancing back and forth between the stars, the moon, and my eyes.

"Hmm, you're so beautiful," he whispers slowly, smiling widely from ear to ear.

"You're so drunk," I tell him, witnessing that familiar look on his face. He's in quite the daze and I wish to forever join him.

"I still see you perfectly. Five heads and all."

"I do not have five heads, you silly man."

"It's just a joke little darling, relax."

"It's not funny."

"I thought it was rather funny."

"You thought wrong."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"I'm not playing this game with you Harry Styles, not again."

"Hmm, play with me Layla James."

"You're ridiculous."

He holds an encouraging smile upon his mouth, gathering me up in his hands, allowing me to settle delicately like a flower upon his lap. I straddle his waist as the moonlight casts down in all its glory, allowing me to see the vision of a man below. He asks for a kiss, one in which I deny, hoping to taunt him for a bit. He pouts for a while as I push some tossed curls out of his face, viewing bright eyes underneath. He keeps me steady and safe just like always, tilting his head up, pleading for a single kiss. I give in eventually, allowing my hair to cover his face once I decrease the distance that remains. He tastes golden, persuaded by the alcohol and the lingering chemistry between us. He tastes heavenly as he cups my face with a free hand, allowing that same hand to slide down to my waist. Yet, as I taste hints of melted chocolate upon his mouth, I pull away, gasping in frustration.

"You took the rest of the candy!"

"What? How did you..."

"Where is it?"