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There was a quietness to the city before dawn, a kind of silence only a few people ever heard. It was the stillness that lingered before the city woke up.
Louis was one of the few people to recognise that silence immediately.
Most days, she welcomed it like she had never known anything other than this. Sometimes she liked to pretend that the quiet belonged to her alone, as if it were a reward for her devotion to waking up at this hour.
She walked down the narrow street in a dark navy coat, the air cold around her. Her boots echoed slightly on the sidewalk, the only sound to be heard other than some distant sounds coming from delivery trucks.
Louis paused at the bakery’s front door, fishing her keys from the side pocket of her bag. The metal felt cold in her fingers as she slipped the key into the old lock and twisted, clicking it open with a familiar sound.
The door creaked slightly as she pushed it open, the weight always protesting in the same way even after oiling them last month.
Stepping inside, she flicked on the lights. The interior sat the same way she had left it yesterday, pink chairs and wooden tables assembled with precision. The bakery was cosy with low ceilings and wooden beams that had made her fall in love with it the day she bought it.
She inhaled, a soft mixture of sugar and spice lingering in the air like it usually did. The scent wasn’t overpowering, it simply felt welcoming and comforting.
Louis walked behind the counter and laid her keys in the ceramic bowl near the register. She tugged her apron from the hook next to the coffee machine, a soft green one with faded flour stains in the shape of her hands.
As she tied it behind her back, she paused to glance around the shop.
The front seating area had five tables, each with matching pink chairs. A potted fern sat in the corner beneath the large window of the bakery. Everything was neat, but it had plenty of character.
Her fingers adjusted the straps of her apron as she walked into the kitchen at the back. It was designed entirely to her liking, matching both the traditional look of it with the need for efficiency.
She turned on the ovens first, which was the most important task of any morning. With a soft pop, the gas kicked in, and the low, slow hum of heat began.
Louis pulled open the refrigerator and reached for the first batch of dough. It had been prepared the night before, kneaded and gently shaped by hand, and left to rise slowly overnight. She touched it slightly, letting her fingertips dip into the puffy mixture.
She put it aside to dust the countertop with flour before turning back to the dough. Her hands moved automatically, stretching, folding, and shaping with quiet confidence.
Louis divided the dough into even parts, which would eventually become cinnamon buns. Her thumbs brushed out layers of a cinnamon sugar mixture that she had made, rolling each portion into tight spirals before tying the ends like little bows.
The buns needed to rest again before they went into the oven, and as they did Louis also took a moment to take a deep breath.
As she waited, her mind wandered to mornings in her childhood home back in Yorkshire. The kitchen always smelled like something was baking. Her mother would hum along to the radio as she kneaded dough on the counter, wearing an apron way too big for her size.
The kitchen had windows that faced the garden, and even when the view was blurred by rain or snow, her mother would pause to look out and whisper something to her. Like a poem or a recipe, she remembered.
Louis didn’t remember the exact songs her mom used to sing. She only remembered the rhythm of them. The sound of a voice sounding through a vanilla-scent-covered kitchen.
By the time the clock ticked 6 a.m., the buns had been baked and glazed. The windows were fogged with warmth, and the displays were slowly starting to fill with various treats. Croissants on the left, each layer crisped to perfection, a row of lemon and raspberry macarons arranged by color beside them. And on the right, the cinnamon buns with a glossy coat of sugar.
Louis stood back and looked at her work. She always gave herself a moment to admire the work she had done, feeling proud even after all this time.
She wiped her hands on her apron and brushed at a streak of flour on her cheek before rolling up her sleeves. She was about to turn toward the coffee machine when the bell above the door chimed.
“Good morning, Louis,” a voice that was all too familiar to her.
She looked up, smiling, “Good morning, Pauline.”
Pauline was already halfway to her seat by the window, the one with the best morning light, as Louis looked at her. She wore a deep burgundy coat and a scarf with little embroidered flowers. Her silver hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail with a pair of sunglasses sitting on top of her head.
“Newspaper’s late again,” Pauline said as she eased herself into her chair. “One of these days, I’m going to start my own delivery business.”
“You’d put them out of business in a week,” Louis replied, already grinding coffee beans.
Pauline chuckled, “I don’t doubt it.”
They had this exchange nearly every morning. It didn’t matter whether the paper was early or late, Pauline liked routine. And luckily for her, Louis did too.
She finished up her flat white and turned towards the small oven, checking on the raspberry brioche. It was nearly ready, its center turning soft and the edges caramelising.
“Just a minute longer,” Louis called out.
“No rush, I’m not heading to work,” Pauline replied, already unfolding the day’s crossword from her handbag instead.
By the time the clock showed 7:30, the city had slowly started to awaken outside. More people passed by the windows, and the sky was brightening by degrees even though the clouds stuck around stubbornly.
Rain would probably come by lunchtime, Louis guessed.
She moved around the bakery with ease, cleaning various surfaces and noting down any groceries she needed whenever she had the time. The radio was now playing a playlist of soft acoustic covers.
Her gaze drifted to the window, the glass reflecting her own portrait. Her hair was braided loosely, laying over one shoulder, and her necklace reflected in the light.
It was an old silver locket, one that she wore every day. She’d stopped opening it a long time ago, but she still caught herself holding it between her fingers when she wasn’t thinking about it.
The bell above the door jingled again at around 8:15, and this time a group of students came in, some of them still half asleep while they talked to each other.
“Three black coffees, and- oh my god, are those new?” a tall girl with golden brown hair pointed at the cinnamon buns.
“Cinnamon buns,” Louis smiled. “I just reheated them.”
“We’ll take four,” said another. “Wait, no, six. We’ll fight over them otherwise.”
Louis packed the order into two paper bags while the students talked to each other, bickering about who owed who for last week's trip to the bakery.
She handed over the coffees one by one, smiling softly. They brought a little chaos, but only the good kind.
“Have a good day!” one of the girls called as they left, their energy spilling onto the street.
And then it was quiet again.
The morning light shifted, now slightly fuelled by a gray undertone. Like the weather was preparing itself to let go soon.
She was mid-step on her way to refill the sugar bowls when something made her glance through the window again.
There was someone standing across the street. Not close, maybe fifteen metres away. A figure partially blocked by the bus stop, standing still.
Louis paused.
Something about the posture, about the angle of their head, made her frown. A bus passed by, and when it was gone, so was the person.
It wasn’t that she recognised the person, but there was something so familiar about their posture, about the way they moved their hands through their hair.
A memory, maybe. Or the ghost of one.
Louis stayed where she was for a moment, blinking as she tried to clear her mind. “Nothing,” she whispered to herself. “That was nothing.”
Still, as she turned away, her fingers drifted to the necklace around her neck. She held it gently between her thumb and pointer finger, the way she always did when something inside her stirred without explanation.
❀•°❀°•❀
The bakery was clean and dark behind her as Louis stepped out into the cold evening. She pulled the door shut and gave the handle a gentle tug to check the lock, then tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat.
There was a cooling breeze winding through the streets, lifting the edge of her collar slightly. The city was settling down around her, shops were closing, and streetlights were coming on.
Louis walked home slowly. She usually liked this part of the day, when the world slowed down enough for small things to be noticeable.
As she passed through the streets, she never meant to linger, but she let her eyes wander to the windows as she passed them. Each of them held a different life, a different evening. She didn’t look in as much as through, simply liking to see the movement people went through.
Whether it was a woman twirling noodles into bowls while her friends passed wine around the table or an older man adjusting his record player, Louis felt a sense of enjoyment seeing others living through their evenings.
Then, at one particular window, Louis slowed to a stop. For a brief moment, it felt like she had traveled back in time, as if she were looking at a reflection of how her evenings used to be.
A couple, dancing in the kitchen. So engulfed in each other’s presence, it felt like the rest of the world had faded away. The way their shadows moved across the tiles, the softness in their postures, it stirred something deeply familiar in her.
She didn’t stop for long, didn’t look again as she continued to walk down the street.
It wasn’t her. She knew that. But still, the thought rose inside of her mind: what if it had been her? And what if our eyes had just met one more time?
By the time she had reached her street, the thoughts had faded away. The evening sun had faded away entirely as the streets were now dark, the only light coming from the lampposts that stood every few metres.
Her flat waited near the end, quiet with its red door and two potted bushes flanking the steps. She lived on the ground floor of an old office building, the garden out back just big enough for a table, some chairs, and flowers.
As she reached the porch, the soft rustle of paws and a distinct meow greeted her. “Mabel,” Louis smiled to herself.
The small gray cat stood tall in the window, tail flicking impatiently. “I’m not late,” Louis said as she unlocked the door. “You’re just dramatic.”
Mabel met her at the door like a chaperone, walking a figure eight around her legs before making a beeline for the kitchen. Louis dropped her bag and coat, then followed.
The flat was quiet with warm wooden floors and the faint smell of cinnamon lingering in the air from her previous tryouts.
Dinner for Mabel came first, of course. Then she decided to take a quick shower to rinse off the flour that had unmistakably made its way into her hair. She tied her damp hair up with a silk ribbon and padded barefoot back into the kitchen.
She sliced a piece of bread that she had brought home, smeared it with some goat cheese and honey, and poured a small glass of wine from the bottle Pauline had gifted her last week.
Sitting down by the window with Mabel in her lap, Louis quietly enjoyed her dinner. The night moved slowly beyond the glass, the city around her falling into it easily.
She was wondering what her own life looked like from the outside, whether someone might pass her window and imagine her life was full of ease. The way she sometimes imagined theirs.
After sitting there for a moment longer, smiling at her neighbour that would always come home a little after she did, Louis stood up to wash some of the dishes she had gathered from this morning up until now.
She lit the small beeswax candle on the kitchen counter, something she did every night before bed. Its scent of vanilla and honey floated through the space easily with the breeze coming through the slightly cracked kitchen window.
Louis was about to head to her bedroom when she noticed the pile of mail on the little table in the hall. She hadn’t thought to check it earlier, her hands full of keys and a cat begging for attention.
She shuffled through the stack, flyers, a local paper, a letter from the local authority about garbage pickup changes, and then one envelope stood out.
Thick. Cream coloured. Her name handwritten in looping ink. The return address had an emblem she didn’t recognise. She opened it without fully realising that she had done so, her fingers careful.
The paper inside was heavy. Beautiful. It felt like it had been made by hand.
Dear Ms. Tomlinson,
On behalf of the National Guild of Bakers and Culinary Creatives, we are pleased to inform you that your bakery, Simply Sweet, has been selected as a finalist for the 2025 Rising Star Bakery Award.
This recognition honours excellence in creativity and community presence in independent baking establishments across the country.
Your bakery was nominated by multiple members of your community, who praised not only your exceptional pastries but also the warmth and heart of your space.
We would be delighted to welcome you to the Guild Gathering in London in just a few weeks for the awards ceremony.
Sincerely,
Clara Thompson
Director, National Guild
Louis stared at the paper.
The room was completely quiet. Even Mabel sensed that something different was in the air. Louis sat down slowly at one of the stair steps, the letter was warm from where she had held it.
Her eyes scanned the words again, lips parting slightly.
It felt unreal.
She had never done this for recognition. She had done this because it had been all that she could dream of as a little girl. She had done it for the way people’s eyes started to glisten when handed something warm in a paper bag.
But someone had noticed her efforts. More than one someone.
She pressed her palm to her chest. Her heart beat steadily there, a little louder than it usually was.
Louis reached for her phone, scrolling until she found Grace’s name, and hit ‘Call’.
The phone rang twice.
“Louis?” came the familiar voice. “What’s up? Did you burn your hand again, babe?”
Louis laughed shakily, “No burns tonight. But I- Grace, I just got a letter.”
“A bad letter?”
“No. Not bad. Good. I mean- great. I think?”
“What does it say?” her friend asked curiously.
“I’ve been nominated for an award. For the bakery. Something national. The…Rising Star thing, I didn’t even know that existed,” she explained.
Grace was silent for a moment. And then, “holy shit.”
“I know,” Louis said, an amused smile making its way onto her face.
“Louis! That’s huge. You deserve this so much.”
“I didn’t even apply,” she said, her voice soft. “Someone, some people, nominated me.”
“Of course they did,” Grace said. “You feed everyone. You make space for people. You remember strangers’ allergies. This isn’t just baking, it’s you that they’re honouring.”
Louis swallowed around the lump in her throat, “I wish you were here so I could hug you,” she said.
“I’m always here,” Grace reminded. “And you better go to that ceremony. It’s a home game, so you have no excuse not to go. And who knows, there is a high possibility that you’ll leave with that award in your pocket.”
“You always know how to say the right thing,” Louis smiled.
“It’s a gift,” Grace said as she giggled.
They stayed on the phone a little while longer, talking about the letter and what Louis would wear to the ceremony. After they hung up, Louis didn’t move right away.
The letter rested beside her. Mabel jumped up and curled against her thigh, purring softly. Louis looked at her reflection in the darkened glass of her front door, letting the feeling that the letter gave her sink in.
Tonight felt like a new chapter was about to begin, one that had begun with just a simple letter.
She reached for it again, fingers brushing its edge as if to make sure that it was real. This was her entire life, and for now, in the quietness of her home, with Mabel breathing softly against her leg, Louis allowed herself to smile.
Not just for what was coming.
But for how far she’d come to get to this place.
❀•°❀°•❀
The bakery had been busy that day, enough to leave her pleasantly tired but not overwhelmed. Still, by the time Louis flipped the sign to Closed, her stomach reminded her it had been running on coffee and half a croissant since lunchtime.
She didn’t bother changing out of her flour-dusted clothes, just grabbed her keys and her bag and stepped into the chilly evening air.
Louis wasn’t planning on doing a full shopping spree, just a few essentials she needed, like milk, eggs, and some fresh fruit.
When Louis first moved to London, it took her some time to adjust to the busy streets. But now that she was used to them, she found herself enjoying the hustle. She even chose the longer route to the grocery store sometimes to take it all in.
Past the florist’s buckets spilling with marigolds and daffodils, past the bookstore with its dusty sale cart and handwritten staff picks in the window. There was always something going on, no matter the time of the day.
At the shop, the bell above the door chimed once as she entered, and Louis shivered at the change in temperature. She paused near the herbs, the basil was fresh today, and she figured she might be able to put it to good use.
She liked to take her time to choose her ingredients carefully, slowly putting meals together in her head. Her basket was about half full when she rounded the corner near the diary section and heard someone call her name.
“Louis?”
She looked up instinctively at the sound, a feeling of surprise moving through her body as she recognised the voice.
There, a few steps away in the middle of the dairy aisle, stood Celia. A carton of milk in her hand, expression caught somewhere between recognition and hesitation. Her curls, shorter than Louis remembered, framed her face in soft, deliberate waves, and the sleeves of her cream coloured linen shirt were casually rolled to the elbow.
“Celia,” Louis said, blinking as the name left her lips. “Hi.”
It had been nearly a year since they last saw each other. Since their long conversations had faded into quiet goodbyes and eventually, complete silence. Still, at this moment, something about her felt so familiar to Louis. The way she tilted her head when she smiled, the confidence in how she stood, it was all so unmistakably her.
“I thought it was you,” Celia said, stepping closer with an amused glint in her eyes. “Still shopping at the very last minute?”
Louis let out a breath of laughter, glancing down at the basil poking out of her basket along with some cherry tomatoes that she hadn’t really needed. “Old habits die screaming.”
Celia nodded, her expression warm but measured. There was no tension, but the space between them was filled with something quieter, no regret, just two people who had once shared a part of their lives together but were only strangers again.
“I saw your name in the paper,” she said after a beat. “The bakery nomination, congratulations.”
“Oh,” Louis blushed slightly. The mention of the article made her feel exposed, like someone had left the door open on something private, even though it was not. “Yes, thank you. It was…unexpected.”
Celia gave her a look, soft and knowing. “No,” she said plainly, “it really wasn’t.”
Louis raised her eyebrows in surprise, a silent prompt for her to go on.
“You’ve always run that bakery with so much care,” she said, her voice quieter now. “Every detail, every recipe, every morning you opened the door before the sun was up, it was all out of love. And now…you finally have something that says the world noticed.”
Letting her gaze drop to the berries in her basket, her thumb brushed the edge of the plastic container. A part of her wanted to shrug it off, laugh it away like she might have years ago. But the sincerity in Celia’s voice made her decide otherwise.
“Still,” she said eventually, “it’s just a nomination.”
Celia smiled then, gently, “still,” she repeated, “it’s yours.”
They stood there for a moment, surrounded by yoghurt and gluten free crackers, the background noise of the store unfolding around them.
Louis glanced back up, something lighter in her tone, “What about you? Still freelancing?”
Celia laughed gently, shaking her head, “Not quite. I moved into urban planning full-time. Bit less design, bit more…city puzzling.”
Louis tilted her head, “That actually suits you.”
“I like it,” Celia said. “It’s strange sometimes, but there’s something satisfying about trying to make a city breathe better.”
“You always did like to rearrange things until everything made sense.”
“I just moved, actually,” Celia said. “Tiny place. The kitchen’s even smaller than the one I previously had.”
Louis made a face, “That’s not possible.”
“Oh, it is,” Celia assured her. “But the windows are huge, and I can see the buses going by from the sofa. It’s peaceful in a sort of way.”
Louis was surprised by how little resentment there was between them. Time had worn down what had once felt so heavy. Their breakup hadn’t been dramatic, just one of those where feelings quietly faded away and neither of them tried hard enough to hold on.
And now they were here, casually reminiscing about what they once knew about each other.
The milk carton in Celia’s hand was already beginning to dampen with condensation from the air. She adjusted her grip on it absentmindedly, her fingers brushing over the blue label. “Mabel still doing okay?” she asked, her voice gentle.
Louis nodded as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “She still runs around the place.”
Celia chuckled, “I miss her little growl.”
“She still does it,” Louis said with a light laugh, tugging at something nostalgic between them. “Usually when I’m on her side of the sofa.”
That made Celia smile, the kind that she used to wear when they were still waking up beside each other and she would sleep in while Louis prepared breakfast for the both of them.
They stayed there for a moment, long enough to feel like more than just strangers, but not long enough to be anything else. It wasn’t awkward but rather uncertain. A silence full of things they didn’t need to say, hanging somewhere between what they used to be and what they were now.
Louis shifted the basket to her other hand, brushing it lightly against her hip, “I should get going,” she said, voice light but not entirely dismissive. “Before she starts growling at me for staying away too long and not just for stealing her spot on the sofa.”
Celia grinned, “Of course,” she said, stepping back slightly to create space between them. “Didn’t mean to hold you up.”
“You didn’t,” Louis assured, more quickly than she meant to. She softened her tone, “It was good to see you.”
There was a brief flicker in Celia’s eyes, something that held either warmth or regret, but it passed just as quickly as it came. “Well,” she said, voice sounding a touch more enthusiastic, “I’ll be rooting for you, as always.”
“Thank you,” Louis smiled. “I might see you around sometime.”
And with that, they parted. Celia to the register, Louis turning to grab a carton of milk before heading for the spice aisle as she remembered she had run out of cinnamon sticks and cardamom.
It was nearly golden hour by the time Louis made it home. The sun hung low, casting a soft glow across the pavement. She walked slowly, bag pressed to her side, the scent of basil following her every step she took.
The apartment was quiet when she stepped inside, Mabel coming to greet her like she usually would, tail flicking lazily. She lifted her head in greeting, then promptly returned to her spot on the sofa.
Louis set her bag down on the dinner table, then sank onto the sofa with a tired sigh. Mabel was already curled in her usual spot and scooted slightly closer as Louis settled in.
“What a turn of events,” Louis murmured, reaching out to scratch behind the cat’s ears.
Mabel responded with a soft purr, then gave her hand a quick, affectionate lick.
Louis smiled, “I brought basil,” she said, as if that might impress her. “Thought you’d appreciate the gesture.”
She stood and stretched, glancing back as she headed towards the kitchen. “Come on,” she called over her shoulder, hearing the soft thud of paws following behind her. “Let’s make you some dinner.”
❀•°❀°•❀
On the morning of the ceremony, Louis was not so quietly losing her mind. It wasn’t just her first real event, it was also her first time walking into a room full of faces she only recognised from television.
Thankfully, Grace had come by to help her get ready. She had always been a lot calmer than Louis was. And, to Louis’ surprise, Pauline had shown up too. Claiming she was there to offer some “motherly advice,” though she mostly just made sure that she had eaten something.
“Louis,” Grace’s voice cut gently through her thoughts, “you have to breathe, babe.”
She glanced over at her friend, her face entirely serious, “Honestly, if I breathe too deeply, I might throw up.”
Grace didn’t flinch, instead, she crossed the room with large steps and crouched beside Louis’ chair. Her hands were warm as they wrapped around Louis’ cold fingers.
“Okay,” she said. “Then we’ll do this your way. One tiny breath at a time,” she teased lightly.
Louis let out something between a laugh and a whimper. Her hands were clammy, and she felt entirely unworthy of all of this. “I’m being dramatic,” she mumbled.
“You are,” Grace agreed. “But it’s sort of adorable, like watching a soufflé collapse in slow motion.”
That earned her a small, reluctant laugh. “I just…I’m a baker. I’m not supposed to walk a red carpet and be in a room with people who have agents.”
“You’re not going to war, Louis. You and a bunch of other people are going to be celebrated. You’ve earned this.”
Before Louis could protest again, Pauline’s voice floated in from the hallway, “Is she breathing yet, or do I need to bring the oxygen mask?”
“Still shallow,” Grace called back.
Pauline appeared in the doorway, holding a pair of silver kitten heels in one hand and a small satin clutch in the other. “You’re going to blow all of them away, darling. But let’s try not to faint before we get the shoes on, hmm?”
“I think I’d rather faint,” Louis muttered. She pushed herself up and walked over to where the dress hung. The green silk was iridescent in the light, shifting between forest and emerald.
Grace came up behind her, “Let’s get you into it.”
Louis stepped into the dress carefully, arms raised above her head. The silk was cool against her skin.
Grace zipped up the back slowly, guiding the fabric up with precision, smoothing it into place.
Pauline let out a small, delighted sigh, “Would you look at you.”
Louis turned towards the mirror with uncertainty. The dress hugged her gently, flattering her without being showy. The top of the dress was molded to her shape, and the skirt fell just right. Long enough to sweep, not so long that it trailed. The neckline was just deep enough to make it look elegant without drawing too much attention, and the color made her eyes look deeper and her skin warmer.
“You look just like yourself,” Grace said softly, standing behind her in the reflection. “No matter what happens today, people will get to see you for who you are.”
Pauline brought over a pair of pearl earrings and began to pin Louis’ hair. They’d decided on something loose and romantic, a twisted updo with a few strands of hair framing her face. “I remember when you were twenty-one and you had first opened your bakery,” she said. “Do you want to know what I thought when I first walked in?”
“That I was too young?”
“That you were brave,” Pauline corrected. “I thought, this girl knows what she loves, and she’s going to build something out of it. And you did.”
Louis felt something tighten in her chest. Gratitude. Nerves. Some fragile emotions that all came with Pauline’s words.
Grace handed her a tube of lipstick, deep scarlet, suiting her entire look just perfectly. “Final touch.”
She applied it slowly, eyes never leaving the mirror. Her reflection stared back, and now she noticed how unsure she looked. “What if I mess it up?” she asked quietly.
“You won’t.”
Pauline touched her shoulder, “But if you do, you’ll still come home to people who’ll love you whether or not you win anything.”
As if summoned, Mabel padded into the room, curling around Louis’ feet. She let out a short meow, then went straight to cleaning her paw.
“Well,” Louis said softly, smiling at her cat. “At least one of us isn’t nervous.”
Grace crouched to help her into her shoes. “Okay,” she said, glancing up. “Here’s how this goes. You’re going to walk into that room tonight and do what you do best, be yourself. The person who wakes up before dawn to make cinnamon buns for complete strangers because she loves it. The person who remembers her regulars birthdays. The one who cries at movies and still keeps her mom’s handwritten recipe card in a frame by the coffee machine.”
Louis blinked, her eyes turning glassy.
“You’re not here because of luck,” Grace added, squeezing her hand. “You’re here because you built something that is worth celebrating.”
“And because your croissants can make a grown man cry.”
“That too,” Grace said with a grin.
Louis took a breath, a deep one this time, and nodded. She grabbed her clutch, tucked her lipstick inside, and slipped the tiny photo she kept of herself and her mother in her childhood home kitchen into it.
She didn’t need a speech, just the reminder of what had inspired her to follow her dreams.
At the door, she turned around. Pauline kissed her cheek, Grace adjusted her dress one more time.
“You’ve got this,” they said in tandem, making her smile.
The car that was waiting outside wasn’t anything flashy, just a classic black town car sent by the committee. The driver stepped out and opened the door. Louis gave a small wave to Grace and Pauline, both standing in the doorway, and slid inside.
Louis sat with her hands folded in her lap, watching the houses pass. She could feel her heart again, a fluttering mess in her chest, but it didn’t feel as terrifying now.
She thought of her mother, of soft kitchen light and the smell of warm sugar. She thought of memories of long mornings at the bakery, of Pauline’s daily order, and Grace taste testing every new idea she came up with. She thought of all the quiet moments that no one saw, cleaning, prepping, planning, hoping.
And now, here she was. Dressed in a green silk dress and heading towards something that felt bigger than her wildest dreams but somehow still hers.
Louis allowed herself to believe, just for tonight, that maybe her hard work meant that she belonged in rooms like this too.
❀•°❀°•❀
Louis took a deep breath as she stepped out of the car, the soft creak of her heels on the stone pavement grounding her in place. The Grand Hotel stood in front of her, tall and golden under the early evening light. The place looked like it belonged in a movie, with wide marble steps, ivy crawling along the walls, and glass doors standing tall.
Her hands were clammy despite it being rather cold. She rubbed them down the sides of her dress, and before she had the chance to fully lose her nerve, a tall woman in a navy blazer stepped towards her with a clipboard and a warm smile.
“Ms. Tomlinson?” she asked.
Louis nodded, “That’s me.”
“I’m Simone. I’ll be showing you around tonight and making sure that you’re where you need to be. Are you ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Louis breathed on a small laugh.
Simone led her through the tall glass doors into a softly lit entrance hall. A low hum of conversation greeted them. Guests arriving, footsteps echoing gently off of polished floors.
There were waiters offering glasses of sparkling water and trays of tiny pastries that Louis didn’t quite recognise at first glance, and a string quartet playing quietly in the corner.
“You’ll have a moment to mingle,” Simone said as they walked, “but you don’t have to talk to anyone if you don’t want to. You’ve got your table reserved near the front, and I’ll be checking in before the ceremony starts.”
Louis nodded, smiling gratefully. “Thank you, Simone.”
“Elderflower lemonade?” a waiter offered, holding out a slender glass.
She accepted it with a small smile, her fingers wrapping carefully around the stem. The scent reminded her of something from her childhood, though she couldn’t quite place it.
“Over here,” Simone said, “are a few of the other nominees.” She pointed out a pair of bakers in conversation, one wearing bright red glasses and the other balancing a macaron delicately on a napkin. “No pressure, just enjoy.”
Louis looked around, already feeling out of place but trying her best to smile politely. She adjusted the glass in her hand, willing herself to relax. She tried her best to relax her shoulders, to cover her unease with polite nods and small talk. But even as she stood among the crowd, she was hoping no one noticed how new she was to all of this.
Soon, someone from the organisation came around, asking everyone to begin taking their seats. Simone reappeared and walked her to the third row, front and center.
Louis sat down carefully, adjusting her dress and glancing at the stage. A warm glow lit up the podium, and floral arrangements framed the background like something straight out of a magazine.
“All good?” Simone asked, her voice gentle as she stepped beside Louis, offering a comforting smile.
Louis turned towards her, exhaling slowly as if to let go of some tightly held breath. “I think I might survive,” she said with a tentative smile. “Might even manage a full sentence if someone talks to me.”
Simone chuckled softly, bumping her hand lightly against Louis’ shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”
The lights dimmed, and the ceremony began.
The host took the stage, welcoming everyone, telling stories of past winners, and setting a tone that felt far more comforting than Louis had expected. One by one, awards were handed out. Every speech was different, but all of them held the same passion, persistence, and love for the work that they did.
The evening unfolded with story after story of work that had meant something. That had changed lives in small but important ways. Louis clapped along, her hands moving on autopilot while her mind was lost somewhere between what was happening on the stage and the racing of her own heart.
She sipped her water. Adjusted the hem of her dress. Fidgeted with her necklace.
The host cleared his throat, holding a card delicately between his fingers. “Next up,” he said, smiling towards the audience, “is our Award for Rising Star Bakery, a category that always surprises us and never disappoints.”
Louis tried not to hold her breath as the other nominees were named. She clapped for each one of them, recognising some names from magazine articles and others from talk within the local industry. She figured that the award might go to one of them.
And then.
“The winner of the 2025 Rising Star Bakery award is… Louis Tomlinson, from Simply Sweet!”
There was a pause, just for a moment, and then applause.
Louis stared straight ahead for a beat too long before realising that she had to stand.
She made her way to the stage, conscious of her dress swaying softly around her legs and the weight of all the eyes on her back. Her hands shook just slightly as she took the small crystal trophy and stepped up to the microphone.
She looked out over the crowd and smiled. “Thank you,” she began, her voice calm despite the way her heart raced. “I wasn’t sure what I’d say if this happened, because part of me didn’t expect that it would.”
A quiet laugh passed through the audience.
“I run a little bakery. We open early. We work with our hands. It’s a small place filled with sugar and warmth and maybe the lightest touch of magic. And most days, I’m just hoping that people come in and feel a little bit better when they leave.”
She paused.
“So standing here now feels a little surreal. And it’s special. Not just for me, but for every person out there who’s trying to build something with care. Something that might feel too small or too quiet to ever be noticed. Because it does matter. People notice. They feel it.”
She swallowed, then continued a little steadier. “I want to thank the people who stood by me, my friends, my community, and everyone who’s ever walked through our door and believed in what we’re doing. This isn’t just a win for me, it’s a reminder that dreams don’t have to be loud. Sometimes they just need to be kept alive long enough to grow.”
Applause filled the room again, a little longer this time. Louis smiled, eyes wet at the corners.
“Thank you,” she said again and stepped back from the microphone.
For the rest of the night, it felt like her feet barely touched the floor. People came up to her to congratulate her and introduce themselves. It all felt a little dreamlike, a little too much. But in the best way possible.
Later, she found herself by a window near the back of the venue, just breathing for a moment. And like in any key moment in her life, her mind just briefly drifted to someone else. Not anyone she had seen recently, but the one she had left behind long ago. The one whose voice still lived somewhere in the back of her mind. The one she never seemed to stop thinking about, especially in moments like this.
Even if it was just for a moment.
She looked down at the small crystal statue in her hands and smiled.
What she didn’t know, what she couldn’t have imagined, was that on the other side of the world, in a living room lit by the soft glow of a laptop screen, that someone else was watching her achieve her dreams.
And she was smiling too.
❀•°❀°•❀
The morning after the ceremony started like any other, except, of course, it didn’t turn out to be like any other day.
The city was quiet, the way it always was just before dawn, but inside Louis, something felt different than it usually did. It was almost like she was alert in a way that she hadn’t quite expected to be.
She walked to the bakery with her hands buried deep in the pockets of her coat, the air cold against her cheeks. A few buses passed by in the distance, and a familiar scent hung in the air, as if it was going to rain soon enough.
Louis hadn’t slept much. She’d gone home after the ceremony and stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours, trying to replay everything. The announcement, the applause, the photo someone had taken of her with the award. None of it felt entirely real.
Her keys slid into the door of the bakery, pushing it open to be met with the same sight as any other day. The faint scent of spices and lemon zest still lingered in the air from yesterday. She turned on the lights, then the ovens, moving through her routine like she always had.
But just before 8:00, a customer came in. Then another. And another. By eight fifteen, there was a queue forming at the door. At first, Louis didn’t think much of it, maybe it had been payday, or maybe a nearby café had been closed. But then, a woman holding the local newspaper in her hand leaned across the counter and smiled.
“You’re Louis, right?”
Louis glanced up from where she was standing near the coffee machine, blinking, “Yes?”
“The award. I read about it in the paper this morning.” The woman held it up for her to see, her name was written in bold letters. “I had no idea this place was yours. Congratulations.”
“Oh, thank you,” Louis said kindly.
“After reading it, I thought I’d stop by and try something. Honestly, I should’ve done it ages ago.”
Louis gave a polite smile, trying not to show the sudden hit of anxiety that washed over her. “I hope that it lives up to expectations.”
But then, two more people walked in behind the woman, already scanning the pastry display. By 8:30, the line was out of the door, and Louis had completely lost track of how many trays she’d pulled from the oven. There was no space to breathe, let alone to admire the golden croissants cooling by the window.
She kept on smiling politely, but her hands shook when she reached for the next batch of dough. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate it, she did. It was just that everything felt too much all at once.
By 9:00, she was down to three raspberry tarts and one slightly overbaked scone. Her shirt clung to her back, and some flour streaked over the bridge of her nose, plus she hadn’t had any coffee yet. She reached for her phone and typed a message to Grace.
Drowning. Send help. And food. Please
After a moment, she added.
I’ll name my next sourdough after you.
Grace’s reply came within seconds, reading, On my way, wearing my best apron. Hold on.
At exactly 9:07, the bell above the door rang, and Grace burst through like she'd run half the way. Her hair was tied up in a hasty bun, and she had a paper bag in one hand while her cardigan was buttoned wrong.
“Where do you need me?” she asked, dropping the bag on the counter. “And please tell me I’m allowed near those croissants.”
Louis exhaled a shaky laugh and gestured towards the customers at the door, “coffee. Take orders and serve them out. I’ll try to keep up with the oven.”
Grace rolled up her sleeves, already moving behind the counter. “On it. I brought you your favourite yoghurt bowl by the way, you’re welcome.”
“Marry me,” Louis muttered, taking the bag with a dramatic kiss to Grace’s cheek.
“Not unless you name a whole line of pastries after me,” Grace replied, already smiling at the first customer she was going to serve.
In minutes, the atmosphere shifted. Grace always had a way of softening a room she was in. She remembered names, offered extra napkins, and threw around compliments without them feeling forced. Near lunchtime, the line finally started to decrease.
Louis leaned against the back counter and took a long sip of her coffee. “I don’t think that I’ve ever seen it this busy before,” she said, eyes wide.
Grace slid a tray of biscuits into the display. “It’s the articles and the award. People love a story, and pastries.”
She let out a breath, trying to rub some of the tension out of her jaw, “It’s just a bit overwhelming. I thought I’d come in and it would be like any other day. I wasn’t ready for all of it to mean anything yet.”
Grace turned, resting her hands on her hips, “Well, tough luck. You got noticed, people want to celebrate that.”
“Yes, I know,” she shook her head, smiling faintly. She was about to say more when the landline rang behind the corner, the old phone she hadn’t used in years.
She frowned and wiped her hands on her apron before picking up. “Simply Sweet, Louis speaking.”
“Hi there, Louis. This is Adrian calling from the National Guild of Bakers and Culinary Creatives,” a warm voice spoke.
Her spine straightened slightly, “Oh, hi. Yes. Hello.”
“First of all, huge congratulations again on your win. We were all incredibly impressed by your work. Your pastries, your approach, the way your bakery was described by locals, it left a really positive impression.”
“Thank you,” Louis said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “That means a lot.”
“I hope it’s alright that I called?” he asked, but continued before Louis could get a word in. “We’re putting together a feature, a spotlight really, on some of this year’s award winners. A kind of behind-the-scenes look at independent bakers doing really inspiring work.”
“Okay…” Louis hesitated.
“We’d love to include Simply Sweet. If you’re open to it, we’d arrange for a photographer and a writer to visit you next week. Nothing intrusive, just some photos of your bakery, of you at work, and a short interview about your process,” Adrian explained.
She glanced around at the slightly uneven displays, the countertop that was currently smudged with fingerprints. “I’m not sure how photogenic the place is,” she said after a moment.
“That’s the beauty of it,” Adrian replied, his voice sounding genuine. “We’re not looking for perfection. We’re looking for authenticity. And from what we’ve seen and read, that’s what your bakery has.”
Louis swallowed, “When were you thinking?”
“We’re aiming for sometime between Tuesday and Friday next week, totally up to your schedule. We’d be in and out within a few hours.”
She nodded slowly, “Alright. Can you send me a few examples of past features? I’d like to get a better understanding of it.”
“Of course! I’ll email them over. No pressure at all, by the way. We’d love to have you, but only if it feels comfortable for you,” he assured.
“I appreciate that,” Louis said softly. “I’ll have a look and get back to you as soon as I can.”
They exchanged some details before she hung up and placed the phone back in its cradle.
Grace looked up from the coffee machine, “You look as if someone just offered to buy the place.”
“No, nothing like that,” Louis said, her voice distant. “They want to feature the bakery in the Guild’s spotlight series. A photoshoot and an interview next week.”
Grace’s eyebrows lifted slightly, “That’s amazing, Lou. You have to say yes to them.”
Louis didn’t answer right away. She leaned back against the counter, eyes scanning the bakery she’d brought to life with her own two hands. Maybe the award had changed something. Or maybe it had just reminded the world of what was already here.
She glanced at Grace, “Tuesday might work.”
“Good,” Grace grinned. “That gives me a few days to figure out your best side.”
Louis snorted, finally letting herself laugh again. The rush might have passed, but something new had only just begun.
❀•°❀°•❀
The morning of the photoshoot began quietly in her flat, soft sunlight spilling through the curtains as Louis stood barefoot in front of her bedroom mirror. She held a dusty pink skirt in one hand, a pastel yellow dress in the other. After a moment, she chose the skirt, pairing it with a simple white blouse that she normally wouldn’t wear to the bakery.
She got dressed slowly, tucking the blouse into her skirt and smoothing down the fabric carefully. She secured her silver necklace in place and slipped on a pair of nude coloured heels before looking at her reflection. Her makeup was simple, only a touch of blush noticeable on her cheeks and a hint of mascara coating her lashes.
Her phone chimed, breaking the silence, and as Louis glanced at the screen, her eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. 7:30. Her eyes widened in panic, she was meant to be at the bakery by 7:45. Grace had insisted on opening up that morning, claiming Louis needed to sleep if they were going to shove a camera in her face, and now Louis was running late.
She hurried out of the bedroom, grabbing her bag on the way to the door and turning back as she nearly forgot her keys.
Mabel was curled up on the windowsill, half asleep as the sunlight warmed her fur. Louis leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Wish me luck,” she whispered, “we both know I need it.” Mabel let out a soft meow that was enough to make Louis smile as she slipped out the door.
As she made her way down the busy streets, each step she took seemed to echo louder than the last, her heartbeat rising with them. And when the bakery came into view, she hesitated for just a second. She considered turning back, returning to the comfort of her home, but she knew that she had to be brave.
“I nearly thought that you wouldn’t show,” Grace sighed when Louis stepped into the bakery just a minute after 7:45. She took a step back, eyeing her, “you look great.”
Louis tilted her head, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly, “I considered it,” she said, before letting a smile break through. “Thank you.”
“You must be Louis.”
She turned around at the sound of the voice, coming face to face with a man she didn’t recognise. “Yes,” she said, steadying her voice. “Louis Tomlinson.”
“I’m Adrian,” he smiled politely, extending his hand for a handshake, “from the Guild. It’s really good to finally meet you in person.”
“Likewise.”
Adrian shifted the clipboard under his arm, “Alright, just to give you a quick idea of how we’ll move through the morning,” he began, glancing toward the bakery. “We're starting with a few portraits outside, nothing too formal, before moving back inside. Our photographer already got some good shots of the street earlier, so we’re ahead of that.”
“Oh, speaking of our photographer,” Adrian said, gesturing for Louis to follow him outside. “Harry’s one of the best we’ve worked with, her eye for detail is unbelievable.”
The name made Louis pause mid-step, a flicker of something sharp and uncertain rising in her chest. Surely, she told herself, it was just a coincidence.
But the moment she stepped outside, Adrian’s voice floated around her, muffled like it was coming from underwater. His words didn’t quite register, because Louis wasn’t listening anymore. Her attention had gone to something else entirely, something, or rather someone, standing just a few feet away.
She was standing with her back turned to her, but Louis knew in an instant. The slight tension in her shoulders beneath a plain black shirt, the way her faded jeans hung loose around her hips, it was impossible not to recognise her.
“Harry?” the name slipped out before she had time to catch it, barely more than a whisper, but it carried just enough strength to be heard.
She turned around, and when their eyes met, it was as if the world tilted slightly off its axis. Everything else went quiet, and for a moment, Louis forgot where she was.
Harry’s mouth moved, but Louis wasn’t catching any of it. She was too caught up in the way time had changed her. Harry’s curls were a little longer now, messier in a way that suited her, and her skin was just sunkissed enough for her to look like she’d been away for quite some time.
“Louis?” The sound of her name, soft and uncertain, finally pulled her away from her thoughts. She blinked, then again, before clearing her throat.
Adrian stood between them, eyes darting curiously. “You two know each other?” he asked, oblivious to the tension that had unfolded itself. Before either of them could answer, his phone chimed and he glanced down with a frown. “Are you both ready to go? We’re on a bit of a tight schedule.”
“I’m good,” Harry said, lifting an eyebrow as she glanced at Louis. The look held a quiet question, but Louis only nodded in response, her throat too tight to form the words.
“Alright then,” Adrian said. “I’m going to leave you two to it while I get everything ready and set up inside. Just call my name if you need anything.” With that, he gave them a nod and disappeared through the bakery doors, leaving behind a silence that felt heavier than before.
It was strange. Louis had stood in front of Harry’s camera more times than she could count. In bedrooms lit by fairy lights, on rooftops at night, and on quiet Sunday mornings when neither of them had somewhere to be. Some moments were playful, others tender, and a few far less innocent. Back then, being seen by Harry had felt natural. But now, with the lens between them again and three years of distance stretched between them, Louis wasn’t sure how to hold herself together.
After the first clicks of the camera, Harry lowered it just slightly, studying Louis for a moment. Her brows furrowed together with concern, “Louis?” she asked, her voice soft. “Are you alright?”
She grimaced shortly, her arms folding across her waist lightly. “Are they that bad?” she asked, tilting her head slightly towards the camera in a half-hearted attempt at a joke.
“With you in them? Never,” Harry said casually, a slight tilt in her voice like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe she genuinely meant it. But Louis couldn’t let herself believe that, not after all this time.
A small smile broke across her face at the words, and at that exact moment, the click sounded again. Louis blinked, realising Harry had raised the camera almost on instinct, capturing the moment without asking.
“That’s what I was waiting for,” Harry said simply, as if that moment had shifted something between them. She glanced through the bakery’s windows, where Adrian was waving them in. “Looks like he’s all set inside. Are you alright to keep going?”
“Louis?” Harry asked again. “If you need me to step out, I will. Just tell me. I don’t want to make this harder for you.”
“No,” she said quickly, maybe a little too quickly, before steadying her voice. “I’m okay, we can continue.”
Louis stepped into the bakery with Harry following just behind her, the bell chiming above the door. Adrian greeted them briefly before disappearing into the back.
“Let’s start by the window,” Harry said. “We can move from there.”
Louis sat down, fingers curling around a chipped blue mug. She glanced out the window and nodded slightly, letting herself fall into the rhythm of it all.
“That’s good,” Harry said as the camera clicked.
They moved through the shop easily after that. Louis pretending to pour a coffee, arranging pastries, and pulling a tray from the oven. With every pose, Harry barely spoke, simply making small suggestions to make sure that Louis was comfortable.
“You still get that crease between your eyebrows when you’re thinking,” Harry murmured once they were done taking pictures, and they found themselves alone in the kitchen.
Louis smiled faintly, leaning against the counter, “You used to say that was your favourite part.”
Harry’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile but something close. “It still is.”
Not knowing what to say, Louis let a silence settle between them. They weren’t quite looking at each other, but standing this close didn’t feel as awkward as she thought it might have.
“Congratulations on your award,” Harry said after a moment, her voice quiet. “I watched it from Brazil. You deserve it, Louis.”
“Thank you,” Louis said as she let her eyes meet Harry’s properly for the first time in a while. “Is that where you came here from? Brazil?”
Harry nodded, “I flew in just yesterday.” She crossed her arms over her chest loosely, and Louis, despite herself, followed the movement. “I’ll be leaving back to New Zealand tomorrow.”
“Back?” Louis asked curiously.
“Yes, I have someone there,” Harry said. At the slight tilt of Louis’ head, she paused and her eyes widened slightly, realising how it must’ve sounded. “A friend,” she added quickly. “He runs a surfing school, and asked me to snap some pictures for their new website.”
Louis nodded slowly, trying to will away the soft flicker of disappointment in her chest. Before either of them could say more, Adrian stepped into the kitchen. “Harry? Can I steal you for a moment?” he asked.
As Harry followed Adrian out of the room, Louis stayed where she was, her hand still resting lightly on the edge of the counter. Just as she exhaled, Grace appeared in the doorway, eyes wide with concern.
“Babe, how did it go? You look like you’re about to faint. Did you even eat anything at all this morning?”
Louis glanced at Grace, but her eyes drifted towards the door Harry had just walked through almost immediately. Her voice came out softer than she had intended, like she was still processing today’s events. “That’s Harry,” she said quietly.
“I know, babe,” Grace said with a frown, clearly misunderstanding the weight behind Louis’ words. “Is she good at her job? I mean, it would explain why she’s not the one standing in front of the camera,” she added with a chuckle.
“What…?” Louis said slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly as she turned to fully face her friend. “Grace, that’s Harry,” she repeated, her voice just above a whisper. She emphasised the name, hoping the familiarity of it would click.
It took a moment. Grace blinked like Louis had just spoken in a language she barely recognised. But then, slowly, her eyes widened as the realisation settled in.
“That’s Harry?” she asked, stepping towards the door for a better look. Louis reached out instinctively, fingers wrapping around her arm to stop her from getting too close.
They stood there side by side, peering through the door opening, watching the girl talk to Adrian. Harry tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, oblivious to the fact that they were watching her.
Louis felt her chest tighten. “Yes,” she said softly. “That’s her.”
❀•°❀°•❀
The plane hummed steadily as it cut through the clouds, heading for New Zealand, but Harry’s mind was still somewhere else. It was lost in a small bakery on a quiet London street.
She sat by the window, the soft light of the day spilling in and brushing gently against her cheek. The sky outside was grey and endless, her laptop in front of her casting a warmer glow. A photo of Louis filled the screen, her hair tucked behind one ear, smiling faintly at something just off camera.
Harry’s finger hovered over the touchpad but didn’t move. She’d already edited most of the photos. It wasn’t the amount of work that was keeping her here, it was the feeling. It was the ache that had made its way into her chest the second their eyes met again.
She hadn’t expected it to hit that hard. She hadn’t expected Louis to still make her feel like this.
It had been three years since they broke up. Three whole years of time and distance and growing apart. They’d managed to avoid each other almost entirely since then, and she still knew of Louis’ achievements through stray Instagram stories every now and then.
And part of Harry had convinced herself that seeing her again would be fine. That enough time had passed. That they were older now, calmer.
But the second Louis had said her name, barely above a whisper and with so much uncertainty, something had shifted. Something inside of her cracked wide open, as if the years had never happened at all.
Louis had always made her feel like that. Like she was suddenly on the edge of something delicate, something that needed both hands and the softest kind of care. And yesterday, even with a camera in between them, Harry had felt it again. Familiar and painful and beautiful all at once.
She leaned her head against the cool glass of the window, eyes flicking to the photo again.
Harry swallowed thickly, tracing the outline of Louis’ face with her eyes. The sharp lines had softened a bit by time, but the way she composed herself hadn’t changed at all. She knew that Louis had built something good with the bakery. The award had only confirmed what Harry already suspected, she’d found her rhythm, her place, and she had done it without Harry.
That thought weighed heavily on her chest. It wasn’t bitterness or jealousy, just heavy. They hadn’t broken up in some dramatic moment guided by shouting or betrayal, they had just unravelled.
Harry couldn’t stay in one place back then. She wanted to travel, to work, to take pictures of the world until it all came together. She’d always told herself it was just a few more months, just one more job, one more country.
And Louis, Louis had been terrified of change. Of shaking up the life she knew, even for love. Maybe especially for love. Her roots ran deep with familiarity, tradition and warmth, and quiet routines. She didn’t follow risk, she followed safety.
After being together for years, they had gotten to a point where they were always out of sync. Harry moving too fast, Louis standing too still.
It was no one’s fault, and maybe that made it worse. There was nothing to hate, nothing to fix. Just two people who loved each other deeply and couldn’t find a way to fit in the same frame.
She exhaled softly, closing the photo and moving on to the next. Harry had taken plenty of photos of Louis over the years, but something about this one made her feel like she could be stuck on it forever. The way her smile was so effortless, it was the best she could look. When she didn’t think too much about it.
She glanced at her phone. No new messages. Not that she had expected any.
They hadn’t really spoken after the shoot ended. Adrian had come to fetch her away, rambling on about final edits and follow-ups, and then it had all wrapped up too quickly. Harry had turned, Louis had looked at her, and they’d shared a single quiet goodbye.
No promises. No talk of catching up. Just a nod and a kind of smile that said, not now.
They both knew it wasn’t the time.
Maybe it would never be.
But the what if’s wouldn’t leave her alone.
What if she hadn’t accepted that job offer three years ago? What if she had chosen to stay in London just a little longer? What if Louis had said, “I’ll come with you.”? What if they had been brave enough at the same time, instead of always being cautious?
She thought about that night, the one where everything finally broke. They had stood in the kitchen of their old flat, her suitcase half packed on the floor, Louis gripping a chipped mug in both hands like it was the only thing grounding her. And Harry had asked, “Why won’t you just try to come with me?” And Louis had said, “Why can’t you stay?”
Neither of them had an answer.
Her hand moved over the touchpad, and she brought up one more photo. It was the last one she’d taken before they went inside, just as Louis had laughed at something Harry had said. She hadn’t meant to take it, muscle memory kicking in instead. Her finger pressed the shutter without thought, drawn in by the curve of her jaw and the light in her eyes.
She zoomed in, adjusted the contrast slightly, but stopped herself before doing anything more. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to change it.
Her reflection ghosted faintly in the laptop screen, layered over Louis’ photo. It was a strange overlap. A reminder that she still wasn’t sure how to separate the past from the present.
Around her, the plane began to fill with rustling. Seat belts clicked, passengers stretched, indicating that they were beginning their descent.
She stared out the window as the ocean drew closer, waves catching the early morning sun. New Zealand was beautiful. She had always loved it here. But today it felt further away than it used to. As if some part of her hadn’t gotten on the plane at all.
She closed the laptop gently, like it were holding something fragile. Something that wasn’t quite finished yet.
Louis would be back in her flat by now, probably washing the flour from her hands and cuddling up with Mabel if she were still around. Maybe she was replaying the same day in her head, the way Harry was. Or maybe not.
Maybe Louis had closed the door on all of this the second Harry walked out of the bakery.
But Harry hadn’t.
She couldn’t stop thinking about that slight tilt of Louis’ head, the way her eyes had lingered like she was about to say something and didn’t. That pause. That moment of hesitation.
Harry didn’t know what it meant. But it slowly haunted her now, clung to her chest, and ached beneath her skin.
She let herself whisper, “if only,” as the wheels of the plane touched the ground. And she realised she now might be further away from Louis than she ever had been before.
❀•°❀°•❀
The air was thick with sea salt and warm wax as Harry stepped into Charlie’s surf school. The boards were still stacked in the same uneven rows, and the wooden floors creaked underneath her feet, making it feel like nothing had changed. Like she had never left at all.
Her camera hung loosely around her neck, swaying gently as she looked around. The place was quiet, showing no sign of Charlie yet. She didn’t mind the wait, but it wasn’t long before the door creaked open behind her and he stepped inside, still dripping wet and grinning widely.
“There’s my favourite Brit,” he grinned, voice carrying that familiar accent. His hair was damp, salt sticking to his skin as if it belonged there. “Give me two minutes to change and then I’m all yours.”
Harry nodded, giving him a small smile as he disappeared into the back. She lowered herself into the worn-out sofa in the corner of the waiting area, the same one customers usually sat in after long sessions or while waiting for their turn to change. It was nothing fancy, just a small sofa and a view of the ocean through a small window.
A few minutes later, Charlie reappeared, his hair still damp and a loose tank top clinging to his sun-kissed skin. He shot Harry a grin as he stepped into the room, and she rose to her feet to meet him, camera hanging between them as they shared a hug.
“It’s really good to see you again,” Charlie said as they pulled apart from the hug, his smile lingering as he met her eyes with an easy warmth he always carried.
“Likewise,” Harry said softly. She glanced around the shop, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Thank you for asking me to do this. It’s nice being back.”
“There wasn’t anyone else I even considered when I thought about getting new photos,” Charlie said as he stepped into his worn-out slippers, stretching his arms behind his head. “You tell me, where do you want to start?”
“I figured we’d start inside,” Harry said, adjusting the strap of her camera to make it more comfortable. “Then head out, see if there’s still some waves left for you to catch.” She knew Charlie would go along with whatever she suggested, he usually did.
It pretty much summed up their friendship.
They had met by chance a few months ago, not long after Harry first arrived in New Zealand to shoot a campaign for a local restaurant. One afternoon, she had wandered down to the beach with her camera, and Charlie had mistaken her for one of his students. She’d laughed, explaining that she was just passing through for work, and somehow they had ended up talking until the sun disappeared into the ocean. From there, it turned into an easy friendship. So when he called her asking for a few photos to help promote his surf school, she hadn’t hesitated before saying yes.
“I got Luke, one of the guys who works with me, to help out,” Charlie added, nodding towards the back of the shop. “Figured it would look more natural that way, like an actual day in the life sort of thing. I thought we could start by the boards, maybe catch a few shots near the lockers, then head down the beach.”
“Sounds perfect,” Harry said with a smile, following him to the boards. She already had her camera ready, fingers quick to adjust the settings.
Charlie was going on about a list of things, like lighting and colours and something about Luke needing to wax the boards again, but Harry only half heard him.
The routine of her work had always come easily, it was second nature, and yet today her thoughts were moving elsewhere. Constantly circling back to the same place. To the bakery. To Louis.
She adjusted the focus on her camera and lifted it towards Charlie, snapping a few easy shots as he leaned one arm against the boards. The shutter clicked in steady beats, but her mind was louder.
Harry hadn’t meant to think about her. Not here, not today. She had left that afternoon, determined to throw herself into work, to ground herself in the salty air and warmth. But ever since she had seen her again, seen Louis, standing just outside of the bakery with sunlight on her skin and uncertainty in her eyes, Harry felt like something had shifted inside of her.
It was like trying to walk through flowing water. Every memory of her dragged behind Harry like a weight she could impossibly get rid of. The way she used to laugh without warning. The way she’d cover the top of her mug with her palm when her coffee was still too hot to drink. The sound she made when she stretched first thing in the morning, just a tiny sigh.
She blinked hard, lowering her camera for a moment, her fingers hovering over the settings even though she wasn’t really looking at them.
“You alright?” Charlie’s voice pulled her back gently. He had stopped posing, his arms now crossed loosely over his chest, his eyebrows creased with concern. “You’ve been somewhere else for the last ten minutes.”
Harry let out a soft breath, looking down at the floor briefly, “Sorry. Just tired, maybe.”
Charlie tilted his head a little, looking unconvinced, “You sure that’s all of it?”
She hesitated. Her thumb pressed lightly against the back of the camera, and then slowly looked up at him. “It’s not just tired,” she admitted.
Charlie nodded slowly, waiting for her to continue.
“I can’t stop thinking about someone,” Harry said hesitantly, almost surprised at herself as the words spilled out. “My ex, Louis.”
Leaning his weight against the boards again, Charlie watched her closely. He didn’t speak right away.
“I saw her again. Yesterday, actually,” she continued, letting her camera rest against her chest. “I was hired for a photoshoot, and when I agreed to it, I wasn’t aware yet that it was her I would be photographing. I saw her win the award, and I thought it would be okay to see her again, so I didn’t pull back from it.”
“I haven’t seen her in three years. And then suddenly, there she was. Looking right through me like no time had passed. And now,” she shook her head, almost laughing at herself.
“Now you can’t stop thinking about her?” Charlie offered gently.
Harry gave a small nod in return, unsure of what else to say.
Charlie stayed quiet as Harry opened her photos app, scrolling through a set of images she wasn’t supposed to have kept. She hadn’t looked at them in months, maybe years, but she had never thought about deleting them either. She turned the screen towards him.
There was Louis, mid-laugh, head tipped back slightly as if caught by surprise. Her cheeks were flushed pink, probably from something Harry had said. She wore a jumper she used to steal from Harry in winter, and the fairy lights behind her gave the photo a halo-like effect.
Charlie looked down at the picture, then back at Harry, “She does look like the kind of person that’s hard to forget.”
“She is,” Harry said, her voice nearly breaking before a silence settled between them.
“Do you think you’ll go back?” he asked quietly. “To London, I mean.”
Harry swallowed, the question echoing loudly inside her head. She looked away for a moment, staring out of the window instead. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “If I did, I don’t know how she would react. If it would even matter to her anymore.”
Charlie gave a small shrug, “If she even slightly looked at you the way you’re looking at that photo, I think it would matter.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at the image on her screen, her thumb hovering over it like she could step into it if she pressed hard enough.
Louis was the kind of person you didn’t just move on from. Once you had her, you knew there wouldn’t be anyone else quite like her. And maybe this was all they were ever meant to be, but still, Harry couldn’t help but feel lucky to have known that kind of love at all. Even so, the thought lingered, soft but persistent, what if there was still something there?
She sighed and returned to the camera setting that she was previously on. “Let’s shoot some more,” she said, “before the light shifts.”
Charlie simply nodded, knowing not to push the topic any further. He stepped into place again and waited for her to lift the camera before going back to posing.
And even as the camera clicked repeatedly and the sun started to turn golden, Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that her heart was somewhere else, somewhere back in London, comforted by a smile she used to know by heart.
❀•°❀°•❀
Back in London, the bakery buzzed with a new energy that felt almost electric.
By mid-morning, nearly every table in the bakery was taken, the air thick with warmth and conversation. Louis moved behind the counter in practiced motions, but even her routine felt fragile under the weight of the rush.
It had been building for weeks, the kind of busy that left her with a good feeling but also drained by noon. Grace had mentioned the idea more than once, bringing someone in on a part-time basis, but Louis waved it off, insisting she could manage. But after one Saturday of juggling burnt scones, mixed-up orders, and a phone that wouldn’t stop ringing, she made the call the next morning without thinking twice.
The days passed in a blur. Louis moved through the bakery with practiced ease, not stopping even as the first copies of the Magazine came out. People came in clutching the issue, resting it on tables between their croissants and caramel lattes. One woman even asked for her signature, sheepish but sweet, as her teenage daughter watched with wide eyes.
Louis smiled, murmured a few thank yous, and signed the paper as she felt her chest tighten underneath the apron she was wearing. The magazine. The photos. Harry’s photos.
She hadn’t asked for a preview. She didn’t want one. Whatever was in there, whatever light Harry had found through her lens, Louis would see it all at once. The same way that everyone else did.
By the time she closed up, her wrists ached from the day’s work, but her nerves prickled like the night wasn’t over yet. The magazine had been delivered with the morning newspaper, stacked near the front. She had ignored it every time she passed. Now, with the place empty and the lights dimmed, she retrieved a copy and held it against her chest as she walked home in the drizzle.
Her flat was familiarly quiet as she stepped in. Mabel padded over, blinking slowly and meowing softly as if to greet her.
Louis lit the soft gold lamp beside the couch and toed off her shoes, setting the wrapped magazine down on the table carefully. Her heart beat unevenly in her chest as she poured herself a cup of tea and peeled herself out of her work clothes, slipping into a comfortable sweater that faintly smelled of laundry detergent.
Then she sat.
The room was cosy, a candle flickering, rain ticking down the windows, and Mabel curled up beside her with a little huff. She picked up the magazine and turned it over in her hands. The cover was neat, looking just as expensive as it felt. Her name was there in large print, Louis Tomlinson, the success behind Simply Sweet. And there, just below the headline, was a photo of her.
She hadn’t known what to expect. Maybe something strictly professional, something with her arms crossed in front of her chest, but no. They had chosen something else. Louis was mid-laugh, flour dusting her cheek, eyes lit like someone had just complimented her biggest insecurity. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at it.
Tracing the edge of the photo, she opened the magazine to see that the spread was even more intimate. The bakery looked like a dream, her dream, that she luckily never had woken up from. And Louis, she was the center of it. It was her, she knew that because she had been there, but it was her through Harry’s eyes.
Louis turned page after page, feeling something unsettling boil up in her chest. Her fingers stilled on a photo near the end, one she only vaguely remembered being taken. She was standing behind the counter, a mug in both her hands. Her expression was soft and her posture unguarded. She could almost hear the click of the shutter, the quiet in the room as Harry took that photo, like she hadn’t wanted to break the spell.
That’s when the ache arrived. Sharp and persistent. Louis set the magazine on her lap and leaned back. Mabel stirred, resettling with a little sigh.
Outside, headlights passed, streaking white across the wet asphalt. Inside, the air was filled with something tender, something unsure.
She thought she had moved on. She had moved on. Hadn’t she?
The bakery was her thing now, it was hers in a way that nothing else had ever been. And she loved it with a steadiness that never faltered. She loved the quiet mornings before dawn, the first smell of cinnamon and butter, the first customers walking in, rubbing sleep from their eyes. She had something of her own. She had built it.
But that didn’t stop this feeling. Didn’t stop the weight of the images, or the memory of how it felt to be seen by Harry, to be understood without needing to explain herself. To be watched like she mattered, not just for what she could do but for who she was.
The photos weren’t just flattering, they were intimate. Loving, almost. She felt it in the framing, the softness of the light, the patience. Harry hadn’t just taken pictures. She had remembered what used to make Louis comfortable.
Louis leaned forward and turned back to the photo on the cover again. Her own eyes looked back at her, full of something that she didn’t have the words for.
She wondered where Harry was now. Had she seen the issue in print? Was she proud of it? Did she think of Louis when she looked at the photos?
Louis rubbed her thumb along the page’s edge, suddenly overwhelmed by the fact that Harry had been there again, in the same room. Close enough to hear her breath, and hadn’t said more than a handful of careful things.
What would she even say now, if they saw each other again?
Hi. I saw the photos. You still see me in a way that unravels everything.
Too much.
Or maybe, do you still think about it? About us?
She swallowed dryly.
She hadn’t admitted it before, not even to herself, but sometimes she still wondered what could have been. She hated the not knowing, but she feared the answer more.
Louis stood and gathered the magazine in her arms, pressing it close to her chest like a shield. She walked to the bedroom slowly, as though she was carrying something fragile. There was a box underneath her bed, memories from a past life she barely acknowledged. She knelt, pulled it out, and dusted the lid with the hem of her sleeve.
Inside were a few old polaroids, a ticket from a night they saw a band in a too-small pub, and one of Harry’s postcards from a trip they never took together. Louis added the magazine carefully, looking at the cover one more time.
Then she closed the box.
She sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment, letting the silence consume her. Mabel hopped up beside her, soft and insistent. Louis stroked her fur absentmindedly, eyes fixed on the window and its reflection.
Maybe none of this meant anything. But for the first time in a long time, she didn’t push the feelings away.
She let herself ache and remembered what it meant to be seen, not by the world but by someone who had once memorised the way she stirred her coffee or how she looked when she was deep in thought.
She was allowed to miss it. She was allowed to want more than the bakery, even if she wasn’t sure what “more” meant.
Her eyes slipped shut, and with that, it all came rushing back. The memory of the train station, that dull grey morning where everything felt vague and unfinished. Harry with her suitcase at her side, one hand stuffed in the pocket of her coat, the other lingering in the air like she hadn’t quite decided whether to reach out or wave goodbye.
Louis had stood on the platform, cold creeping onto her face, and her heart was hammering in her chest like it was trying to get out. She could still see it, the way Harry paused before stepping on, as though she was waiting for something. Louis had said nothing. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she didn’t know how.
She hadn’t cried that day. She went home, fed Mabel, and washed her hair like nothing had happened. It wasn’t until hours later, standing by the kitchen sink, that she realised her hands were shaking. The ache in her chest had been quiet but permanent. A small, dull throb that never really healed.
She stayed still for a moment, the silence wrapping around her like a blanket. She wasn’t sure what the ache meant anymore, or what to do with it. But it was now more persistent than it had been in years.
For now, the ache of it was enough. And somehow, in the quiet of her flat, surrounded by the dim flicker of candlelight and the scent of the bakery lingering in her hair, Louis began to wonder if being seen again was something she might still be brave enough to want.
❀•°❀°•❀
Louis had learned that if she kept herself busy, the days blurred into each other. Since the magazine came out a month ago, the bakery had been busier than ever, full of new faces and familiar ones returning more often.
Sacha, the part-time employee that Louis had hired, had settled in quickly. By now, she had found a way through the bakery that blended easily into Louis’. On days like this, where the line didn’t stop until outside and the bell above the entrance didn’t stop ringing, Louis felt grateful that she let go of her pride and made the call. Stubbornness only got her so far.
“Welcome to Simply Sweet, how can I help you?” Louis smiled at the next customer in line, her voice calm despite the exhaustion tugging at her edges.
“Good morning, darling,” the elderly woman greeted with a kind smile. “I’ll take a mix of your best pastries and one of those sourdoughs, if you’ve still got any left.”
“Of course. Coming right up,” Louis replied, reaching for a paper box from the stack behind her. She selected pastries with the tongs and placed them neatly inside before turning back to bag one of the last sourdough loaves from the display. “That’s all?”
“Thank you, darling. You’ve just made my whole morning,” the woman said warmly, her fingers curling gently around the paper bag. She gave Louis a grateful smile before turning to leave.
“Welcome to Simply Sweet, how can I-“ the words faltered as soon as her eyes landed on the next customer.
Her breath caught, just briefly, as if the sight in front of her couldn’t be real. Harry stood there, hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans, looking both confident and entirely unsure at once. “Harry,” she said, the name coming out softly as if it had settled at the back of her throat and only now found its way out.
Harry stepped forward, closing a bit of the space between them, her voice quiet but certain. “I know you weren’t expecting to see me here,” she said. “But after seeing you again, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
“You came back because you couldn’t…” Louis began, the rest of the words catching somewhere in her throat. She didn’t quite trust herself to say it out loud, especially with the way that Harry was looking at her.
“I felt it the moment I left, like something wasn’t right, like we left things hanging,” Harry said quietly, searching Louis’ eyes. “And when I saw the magazine…I think we owe it to ourselves to have a conversation.”
“Harry,” Louis swallowed hard. Part of her wanted to say yes right away, but another part hesitated too much. “I’m at work, I can’t just step away.”
Harry gave a small, understanding nod. “I get it. I wouldn’t want to disrupt your day. That’s why I thought maybe after you close, if you’re free?” Her voice was quiet but hopeful, searching Louis’ face for any sign.
Louis glanced past Harry at the growing line behind her before meeting her eyes again. “Not today,” she said quietly, “but tomorrow? I close at six. We can meet after that.”
A small, genuine smile tugged at Harry’s lips. “That sounds perfect,” she said softly. Then, glancing briefly over her shoulder at the busy bakery, she looked back at Louis with a slight concern in her eyes.
“Have you eaten anything yet today?”
Louis felt a rush rise to her cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and tiredness. In the chaos of the morning, she’d barely managed half a croissant. It was hardly enough to keep her going through the endless rush of the day.
Before Louis could form a reply, Harry spoke again, her voice easy but familiar in a way that made Louis’ heart skip. “Could I get two coffees, one black and one with just a splash of milk, and two of the peach pastries? But only if they’ve got that little bit of sea salt on top.”
“They do,” Louis said, her voice quieter than before, laced with something uncertain. She turned, almost automatically, placing two cups beneath the machine while reaching for the pastries and slipping them into a paper bag. Her hands moved by habit, but her thoughts were far from usual. A few minutes later, she set the order down gently in front of Harry.
She watched as Harry carefully reached into the bag, taking out one of the pastries and setting it down in front of her. Then, without a word, she slid one of the coffees across the counter as well. “You should eat,” Harry said softly, not as a suggestion but with a kind of quiet insistence. “Even if it’s just this.”
“Thank you,” Louis murmured, her voice laced with something between surprise and something more tender.
Harry lingered for a moment, her eyes soft. “I’ll see you here at six tomorrow,” she said quietly, like a promise. Then, with a faint nod and the softest curve of a smile, she turned and slipped back into the crowd, disappearing from Louis’ view slowly.
The rush of the morning didn’t slow until the sun hung low and shone through the windows. The line never fully disappeared, just dipped now and then, enough to catch a breath but not much more. It wasn’t until late afternoon that the crowd thinned just enough for Louis to step into the back, leaving Sacha at the counter. She slipped her phone from her pocket and finally called Grace.
“Hey, Lou,” Grace’s voice came through, easy and warm. “Not busy over there, are you?”
“It was,” Louis said, her voice quiet. There was a pause, brief but feeling heavy. “Harry came back.”
“She did?” Grace’s voice rose with surprise, but there was a gentleness behind it, one that didn’t push too hard. She knew better than to fill the space too quickly, choosing to leave room for Louis to find her own words instead.
“She said she felt the need to come back and asked if we could talk tomorrow evening,” Louis added, her voice soft as she leaned against the kitchen doorframe, the weight of it settling over her.
A pause stretched between them as Grace took a moment to choose her words carefully. “How do you feel about that? About her coming back?”
Louis stared blankly into the kitchen, voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t know. I feel everything all at once, Grace. Fear, excitement, uncertainty.”
“That’s okay,” Grace said gently. “Part of you has missed her, and another part is scared that she’ll leave again before you’ve had a chance to really let yourself adjust.”
“Do you think I’m making the right decision?”
“I can’t tell you that,” she said, her voice steady. “But I do know that if you truly didn’t want to talk to her, you wouldn’t. The fact that you agreed to it, maybe you’re giving yourself a chance at the closure that you never had before.”
“I’m afraid I’ll say the wrong things,” Louis admitted, wrapping her free arm around herself comfortably.
“As long as you’re being honest, Lou, there’s no such thing as the wrong words. You’ve just got to trust yourself a little.”
“When exactly are you meeting?” Grace asked after a brief pause.
“Tomorrow,” Louis said quietly. “She said she’ll come by the bakery around six, right when I’m closing up.”
“Okay, babe. Don’t keep yourself up over it,” Grace reminded her gently. “You know Harry. And Harry knows you. It’ll be just fine,” she paused, then added with warmth, “and if anything does go wrong, I’ll be here. You don’t have to figure it out alone.”
“Thank you,” Louis let out a breath she wasn’t aware that she was holding. “I will keep you updated,” she promised.
“Okay, Lou. Just remember to breathe,” Grace said before they hung up the phone and Louis returned to the bakery.
It was still quiet when she returned to the register. She sent Sacha home early with a grateful smile and eventually locked the door behind her, choosing to finish the day on her own. As she moved through the closing routine, wiping down counters and stacking trays, she kept reminding herself that if she just kept breathing, she’d be okay.
❀•°❀°•❀
Louis was finishing placing the “Closed” sign and wiping the last fingerprints from the display glass when she looked up and saw Harry at the door, just before six. For a moment, as the bell above the door rang, Louis’ breath got caught in her throat.
Harry stood there, looking effortlessly good in the late afternoon, and Louis felt her heart skip before it caught again, steady but louder than before. She hadn’t meant to stare, but now that she had, it was impossible to look away. “Hi, Harry,” she said softly, her voice catching just slightly.
“Hey,” Harry smiled softly, “You look nice.”
Louis felt warmth bloom on her cheeks as she glanced down at her outfit. A high-waisted skirt in deep purple, paired with a tucked-in cream top and her leather ankle boots, a combination she had picked this morning with too many nerves in her body.
“Thank you, I actually just changed into it,” Louis admitted, brushing a hand over the front of her top as she reached for the small bag she kept tucked beneath the counter. “Figured that if we were going to talk, I shouldn’t show up, leaving a trail of flour everywhere.”
Harry’s smile softened something quiet inside of her. “Smart,” she said, voice low and warm. “But for what it’s worth, I think you look good either way. Flour or not.”
Louis felt her heart twist, in the best and worst way possible. She locked the door behind her and offered Harry a kind smile. They stepped onto the sidewalk together, the air quiet and the promise of conversation hanging between them.
They walked side by side to a small café on the next block, lit by a bright lamp and murmurs sounding from early evening customers.
Harry held the door for Louis, their steps silent and steady across the dark wood floor. “How have you been?” she asked as they settled into seats near the window.
Louis paused, feeling the ease and the tension in Harry’s presence all at once. “Busy,” she breathed. “The bakery has been busier than ever since the award and the magazine. I hired extra help, now it’s running smoothly without me needing to be everywhere all at once.”
“That’s amazing,” Harry replied, leaning in to hear Louis better just slightly. “You built something to be proud of.”
“Thank you,” Louis said, her smile warmer now. She let the moment settle between them before tilting her head slightly. “What about you?” she asked, “Have you been traveling to many countries?”
Harry nodded, “I moved around every few months. It was good for me, I think. To be in new places, see different ways of living,” she paused, glancing at Louis. “It was something that I had wanted for a long time.”
“I’m happy you got to chase your dream,” Louis said genuinely, her voice soft but steady as she reached for her drink and took a small sip. Just then, the waitress appeared beside their table, setting down a cheeseburger in front of Harry and placing a fried chicken sandwich in front of her. The plates gave them both a small excuse to shift focus, but Louis noticed the way Harry’s gaze lingered on her a moment longer.
Before Louis could ask anything, Harry reached for her burger, lifting the top of the bun and carefully removing the pickles without a word. She placed them gently onto Louis’ plate, the way she always used to.
“Sorry,” Harry murmured, her gaze flickering up to meet Louis’ for just a second. “It’s a habit,” she added, a faint flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks as if she weren’t sure whether she had overstepped some boundary.
“Never,” Louis said, her voice lighter than it had been all evening as she picked up a pickle and popped it into her mouth. “Apologise to me for giving me pickles,” she added with a soft giggle.
After that, they slipped into the rhythm of ordinary catching up. People they had met, places they had seen. But beneath that, a tension hummed of unsaid words waiting to be spoken. Louis’ gaze drifted to Harry’s and studied the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, how her curls caught lamp light, and how the confident posture always felt comfortable.
“So…” Harry started, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass as her eyes lowered slightly. “Has there been someone? Since…us, I mean. Anyone who’s made you feel something special?”
Louis took a breath, biting the inside of her cheek as she followed the movement with her eyes. “I- I was with someone for a few months,” she confessed. “She was great, but something inside me told me I couldn’t carry it forward, it didn’t fit.”
Harry reached out, fingers hovering over Louis’ hand before retracting. “I’m sorry it didn’t work,” she said softly. “I haven’t been with anyone serious. Things happened, but it never clicked in a way that it needed to.”
“When we said goodbye at the train station,” Harry said softly, her voice carrying the weight of the memory, “it never felt final to me. More like we were putting something on pause, not ending it.” She glanced at Louis, eyes searching. “And then at the photoshoot, being near you again, it all came back. That feeling, like we still weren’t finished.”
Louis’ breath caught, her mind racing back to that morning. Harry with her suitcase, silence thick around them. “I thought it was farewell,” Louis admitted quietly. “But as soon as I watched you board that train, a questioning feeling settled inside of me.”
Harry looked down at her hands, nodding. “I felt it too,” she murmured. “The second I sat down on that train, I knew that I wasn’t done. With you, with us. But I was stubborn and told myself I had made the right decision.”
Louis let a silence fall between them for a moment. The café around them was warm, conversation humming lightly in the background. She watched Harry carefully, noting the way her shoulders curved inward slightly, as though she was bracing herself for something.
“I kept on justifying it too,” Louis said, her voice soft. “I told myself that some things aren’t meant to last. That people leave, and that it’s just life. But when I saw you at the bakery that day…everything came rushing back to me.”
Harry exhaled softly, her hands dropping into her lap. “Louis, if there is any possibility that…that you felt what I felt? That seeing me has opened a door? That maybe…” she paused, eyes hopeful. “That maybe we could see if it could mean something?”
Louis didn’t answer at first. She looked down at her hands, thumbs lightly brushing over the rim of her glass, tracing the condensation like it would offer her clarity. Her attention tunneled in on the question that lingered in the air between them, fragile and full of emotion.
Could they?
She didn’t want to say yes too quickly, didn’t want to let the warmth in Harry’s voice, or the softness in her eyes sway her entirely. Because she remembered how it felt when Harry left. Not just the goodbye at the train station, but the days after. The way her life had felt more quiet, how sunlight through the windows seemed duller, and how she had to train herself not to expect Harry’s laugh echoing from the kitchen or her coat hanging by the door.
And still…here Harry was. Sitting across from her, waiting. She wasn’t asking for everything, but for something.
Louis looked into Harry’s eyes, the same eyes she had memorised years ago. They were softer now, but still had that same bright curiosity. She felt the ache of possibility, together with the terror of hope.
“I…I don’t know,” she breathed. “But I’ll think about it,” a tear slipped free as she blinked, though she didn’t look away. “I will think about it,” she promised.
“That’s all I’m asking,” Harry said gently, a small smile tugging at her lips. Her voice held no pressure, just sincerity.
The weight between them seemed to lift, just enough for Louis to exhale without feeling like it might cave her in. They didn’t need to rush anything, and somehow in that moment, the unspoken agreement was enough. It was what made it easy to let the evening slip away between them.
They had words still unspoken. She realised now how much courage they would need, both of them, to step beyond memory and fear.
“Thank you for agreeing to talk,” Harry said, her voice low, almost fragile. Her eyes held Louis’ for a moment, wide open and unguarded in a way that made something shift inside of Louis, something she wasn’t ready to name just yet.
“Thank you for coming back,” Louis murmured, her voice barely louder than the music playing in the café. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, it was tentative but genuine.
They didn’t need more than this, not yet.
❀•°❀°•❀
Harry walked through the early morning streets of London, camera straps draped across her shoulders. She enjoyed being back in the city, reliving both the life she had loved there and the memories she had left behind.
Her sister Mia and Mia’s son, Arthur, who was nearly two years old. His chatter and small footsteps provided a gentle rhythm as they walked between the park benches and flowerbeds in the soft dawn light.
She crouched beside Arthur in an open patch of grass, sunlight filtering through the leaves above them. As he reached out with tiny fingers towards a dandelion swaying in the wind, Harry lifted her camera. “Look at that,” she whispered, her voice soft with wonder as she caught the moment. His eyes wide, awe struck through her lens, the way only a child could see magic in something so simple.
Mia brushed a strand of hair from her face, “he’s a natural model,” she laughed warmly. “You know he’ll expect these to go straight to our parents?”
Harry smiled. “Let him grow up a bit. I’ll insist on them saving a few spots for the family album.” She followed Mia’s gaze towards a bench near the water. “Let’s get some portraits done before the light changes too much.”
They settled near a low-hanging weeping willow, its branches swaying gently like a curtain between them and the rest of the park. Arthur ran ahead, his little legs unsteady but determined, the damp grass brushing against his ankles with every step. Harry raised her camera, clicking quickly as his laughter echoed back to them.
“How long do you think you’ll stay this time?” Mia asked, glancing sideways to see that Arthur had wandered off just a few feet, happily preoccupied with a fallen leaf.
Harry bit her lip gently, then let it go with a soft sigh. “I’m not sure,” she admitted as her eyes followed her nephew stepping through the grass. “It depends,” she gave a small shrug.
Mia raised her eyebrows slowly, “Depends on what?”
Harry inhaled slowly, “Louis,” she said, the name slipping out like it was something fragile. “We saw each other the last time I was in London, for that photoshoot.”
She turned slightly, her attention turning to Arthur as he came running back and nestled into his mother’s lap with a tired sigh. She brushed a hand through his curls before glancing up at Harry again. “How do you feel about it?” she asked, voice laced with sisterly concern. “Is that why you came back from New Zealand early?”
Nodding slowly, Harry let Arthur’s tiny hand curl around her finger, his grip soft as he was trying to stay awake. “I couldn’t stop thinking about her,” she said quietly, “and I felt like we owed each other a conversation.”
Mia’s gaze softened as she studied her sister. “And what does she think?” she asked gently, her voice low so as to not sound too overwhelming.
“I don’t know yet. She said she’d think about it. Said she needed some time.”
“And this trip depends on her answer?” Mia nudged her gently.
Harry looked out at the swans drifting across the pond before nodding slightly. “If she’s open to it, I might stay longer, see if something can begin again. If not, I’ll probably keep on traveling.”
“Well,” Mia smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Louis and I always got along well. Let’s hope she does this little thing and gives you a reason to stick around a bit longer,” she said with a playful wink.
“I just want to know what she feels,” Harry said, her voice quiet. “If there’s a chance,” she added, swallowing dryly like the words didn’t want to be spoken out loud in this setting.
“Whatever she decides, I’m happy that you’re here right now, H,” Mia said softly, her voice warm as she adjusted Arthur in her lap. The boy let out a sleepy giggle, fingers still wrapped around Harry’s. “Haven’t we, Artie?”
Arthur let out another soft laugh in response, his head lolling lightly against Mia's chest. Harry smiled at the sight of him, small and safe and perfectly at peace in his mother’s arms. It reminded her of the quiet things she missed in between cities, airports, and hotel rooms.
Mia gave her a look then, one of those knowing sister glances that didn’t need words to cut straight to the point. “You don’t have to keep running, you know.”
Harry’s brows pull together, her voice barely above a murmur, “What if I’m not meant to stay in one place?”
Mia tilted her head, brushing a finger over Arthur’s cheek, “I think you already have a place. You’re just waiting for the person to say that you can stay.”
Looking down at her hands, Harry traced the edge of her camera lens. “That’s the thing,” she said slowly. “What if she can’t say it? What if she’s too scared to ask me to?”
“Then you stay a little longer anyway,” Mia replied. “You don’t have to leave just because someone else is unsure. Maybe you give her time to figure it out without it feeling like a bad thing. And maybe it’s not needed at all.”
Harry didn’t respond right away. The willow branches rustled softly around them, and she took a deep breath, letting the air sit in her chest. “I haven’t let myself want this in so long,” she admitted. “I’ve chased everything I dreamed of. The photos, the travels, the stories. But I haven’t wanted someone like this since her.”
“And now you do?”
“I think I always did,” Harry said, her voice laced with something raw. “Even when we said goodbye, it never felt final. Like we were unfinished.”
Mia nodded in understanding, “I assume you told her that? She knows that you’re still willing. Now the ball’s in her hands, there’s not much more that you can do.”
Harry looked up at her, a soft smile appearing on her face. “You’ve always been the wise one.”
“Hardly,” she laughed under her breath. “But I do know that when you find someone who makes the rest of the world feel quiet…you don’t just walk away from that.”
Arthur had fallen asleep by now, his thumb tucked close to his cheek and his breath slow and steady. Mia shifted him slightly to hold him better, her gaze lifting to the horizon. “You could make a home here again,” she said quietly. “Not just for Louis, but for you. You’ve been to so many places. Maybe now it’s time to choose one.”
Harry’s throat tightened, the thought of home sounding both foreign and familiar. “London’s changed,” she said.
“So have you.”
She smiled at that, her fingers curling around the strap of her camera again. She turned to catch a final photo, Mia cradling Arthur beneath the sweeping branches, the sunlight weaving through in golden waves. It was a moment she didn’t want to forget.
“I’ll think about it,” she nodded to herself.
Mia grinned, “That’s all that I wanted you to say.”
Harry didn’t feel the need to rush, didn’t feel the usual pull of somewhere else. She felt, for the first time in a long time, like she might be able to stay.
Eventually, they packed up their things and began the quiet walk back towards Mia’s car. Arthur, still fast asleep with his cheek against his mother’s shoulder. Harry’s camera bumped softly against her hip with each step, creating a gentle rhythm.
The car came into view quicker than Harry expected, the morning already unfolding into something busier. At the curb, Mia shifted Arthur carefully and turned towards her sister. “You’ll let me know how it goes?” she asked.
Harry nodded. “Of course I will,” she promised.
“Oh, and H?” Mia called out just as she opened the car door, gently settling Arthur into his seat. She looked over the roof of the car, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “You’re not as much of a runner as you think you are.”
Harry stilled, breath catching for half a second. Then she let out a quiet laugh that softened something in her chest. She gave a small nod, acknowledging the truth in the words without needing to say more.
Mia didn’t wait for a response, just offered a final look full of understanding before slipping into the driver’s seat. And as the car pulled away, Harry stood alone on the curb with the city around her and those words echoing gently in her mind.
❀•°❀°•❀
Louis checked her reflection once more in the café window before stepping inside. Warm light spilled out, showing just the kind of cozy spot Grace had been talking about. She brushed her hair into place, breathing slowly before stepping in.
She glanced around the café, unsure, the brief description she had been given not offering much to go on. The quiet hum of conversation filled the space, but then, softly, from just behind her, she heard her name, “Louis?”
She turned instinctively, her gaze landing on a blonde girl with bright eyes and a wide, easy smile. “Yes,” Louis returned the smile gently, her voice laced with curiosity. “Sophia?” she asked.
“You look exactly like Grace described,” Sophia said with a light laugh, motioning towards the chair across from her.
“I hope she didn’t set the expectations too high,” Louis said, settling into the chair as she slipped off her coat and let it drape over the back. She offered a small smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Did I keep you waiting for long?”
“No,” Sophia replied, her voice light as she opened the menu in front of her. “It was worth the wait, definitely,” she flashed Louis a quick smile, easy and confident.
While Sophia focused on flipping through the menu, Louis let her eyes wander for a moment, quietly studying her. Her hair was a soft blonde, pulled back in a loose ponytail with a few strands falling along her temples. Her hazel eyes caught the low light, and she had a kind smile, charming in an easy way. But as Louis sat there, a quiet feeling settled in her chest, one she couldn’t name just yet. It wasn’t discomfort, more like something was missing.
“So,” Sophia’s voice gently pulled Louis back from her quiet thoughts. “Grace told me you run a bakery. Has that always been your dream?” she asked, her tone curious.
“Pretty much,” Louis replied, fingers wrapping around the glass of water in front of her. “I honestly can’t remember a time when I didn’t want to have a bakery of my own. That dream’s just always been there, you know?”
“I get that,” Sophia said with an easy shrug. “I’ve always wanted to open a little bed and breakfast somewhere quiet, but,” she exhaled lightly. “Hasn’t quite worked out yet.”
“It’s never too late, you know. If it’s still pulling at you, it’s probably for a reason.”
They slipped into an easy conversation that flowed well enough to keep moving. Louis shared the story of opening the bakery, how nerve-wrecking that morning had been, and how everything changed after the award, customers showing up in numbers she hadn’t dared to imagine. Sophia listened intently, then offered pieces of her own life in return. How she’d only been in London for about a year and was still figuring out how to make the city feel like home.
Soon, their conversation took a quieter, more thoughtful turn. Between sips of coffee and the occasional soft laugh, Sophia tilted her head and asked, “Do you go on dates like this often? I imagine life gets pretty busy with the bakery.”
Louis pressed her lips together for a moment, considering how honest she wanted to be. “I’ve been on a few,” she admitted. “Grace tries to set me up now and then,” a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “They’re usually…fine. But I don’t know, nothing’s really stuck.”
Sophia leaned back a little, her expression open and easy as she stirred the last bit of her latte. “Well, I hope today leans more toward memorable than fine,” she said, a grin on her face.
Louis smiled, polite and appreciative, but something else didn’t seem to leave her mind. Sophia was lovely. Funny, articulate, and sweet in the way she checked if Louis liked her coffee with or without milk. She listened well, her questions thoughtful, and she smiled like she truly wanted to be sitting here. All the ingredients of a good date were laid out neatly between them.
Still, Louis felt something hollow quietly echoing inside her. Something just slightly off key.
She nodded as Sophia spoke about her early days in London, how the city had felt too fast at first, and how she’d gotten lost on the Tube and accidentally taken the northern line for an entire loop before realising it. “I didn’t even know you could end up right where you started,” Sophia laughed.
Louis laughed too, and it felt genuine. But it was the kind of laughter that belonged to a conversation more than a connection. The kind of laughter that filled the space, but not the feeling inside of her.
She glanced down at her napkin, folding and unfolding the corner absentmindedly. When Harry made her laugh, it had always felt like it bloomed from the inside out, like her whole body knew she was happy before she even realised it.
“I think I’m still learning the rhythm of the city,” Sophia continued. “It’s beautiful, but it’s busy. You know?” She met Louis’ gaze across the table. “But you seem like someone who belongs in a place like this.”
Louis blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “What makes you say that?”
Sophia smiled, “You seem steady. Like someone who knows where they’re going. I admire that.”
Louis’ stomach twisted, not unpleasantly but not quite comfortably either. She appreciated the words, but it felt like the version of herself Sophia was admiring wasn’t the one Louis truly lived. Not lately, anyway.
Lately, she felt like someone who was unsure of what came next. Someone whose heart still beats a little too fast when she thinks of another woman’s laugh. Another woman’s eyes.
They paused when their meals arrived, pasta for Sophia, a warm roasted vegetable salad for Louis, and conversation dipped naturally into food. Sophia complimented the seasonin,g and Louis asked about her favourite restaurants so far in the city. It all came easily.
And yet. During a lull, when Sophia was sipping her second cup of coffee and watching the flicker of candlelight, the silence between them changed.
Louis’ thoughts drifted again.
She thought of Harry’s voice the other night, low and soft in contrast to Sophia’s slightly high-pitched tone. She remembered the way Harry’s eyes had searched hers, cautious and open at the same time, asking if there was still something there.
That one evening, a handful of sentences had left her feeling more unsettled, in a good way, than any date she’d been on in this past year. Including this one.
“Tell me something surprising about you,” Sophia said suddenly, a mischievous tilt to her smile. “Something no one expects.”
Louis blinked. “Um,” she paused, buying time by taking a sip of her drink. “I cry during cooking competition shows,” she offered with a small laugh.
Sophia leaned in, intrigued. “That’s adorable. Like, every episode?”
“Sometimes even the auditions,” Louis winked with small embarrassment.
They both laughed, but Louis’ gaze drifted again. It struck her in that moment how much she missed the way Harry used to laugh at her quirks. Not amused or indulgent, just completely delighted, like Louis was the most fascinating person in the room even when she wasn’t trying to be.
Sophia tilted her head again, “You okay?”
Louis blinked, realising she had gone quiet for too long. “Yes, sorry. Just a long morning,” she smiled, soft and apologetic.
The check came not long after. Sophia reached for her bag, but Louis gently put a hand on the bill. “Let me get this one,” she said. “Grace set it up, I owe her the courtesy of not being cheap.”
Sophia laughed and let her, “next one’s on me, then.”
Louis didn’t reply to that right away.
They stood and slipped their coats on, stepping outside into the cold London air. The wind tugged at Louis’ scarf as they stood at the curb.
Sophia glanced up at her, smiling, “I had a really lovely time, Louis.”
Louis met her gaze, heart tightening. “I did too,” she said honestly. Because parts of it had been lovely. The kindness, the warmth.
But as Sophia leaned forward after a moment of contemplation, one hand brushing Louis’ arm gently, her intention clear. Louis stepped back, not abruptly, not unkindly. Just enough. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.
Sophia paused, “Oh,” she said, blinking.
Louis searched for the right words. “It’s not you. You’re…really wonderful. But I think I’m figuring something out about what I’m looking for and-“ she stopped herself, not wanting to lie but not ready to name Harry aloud either. “I just don’t think it’s fair to pretend there’s more here when I don’t feel it fully.”
Sophia took a breath and ,after a momen,t nodded.
“I really did enjoy our conversation,” Louis added genuinely.
“I believe you,” Sophia said, smiling faintly. “And I hope you figure out whatever it is you’re looking for.”
Louis nodded, her chest tight with a blend of guilt and certainty. “Thank you.”
They exchanged a quiet goodbye, and Louis watched as Sophia walked down the street and disappeared into the soft glow of the city.
She turned in the opposite direction, the day stretching ahead of her, filled with the noise of passing cars and rustling leaves. Her hands were stuffed into her pockets, her steps slow and thoughtful.
It wasn’t about Sophia. Or about Grace’s well-meaning matchmaking.
It was about the way her heart had reacted the moment Harry had said her name again. The way her hands had trembled, not with nerves, but with something that felt closer to recognition.
As the bakery lights came back into view, Louis thought of something Harry had said. If there’s even a chance, I want to know.
No one else had ever made her feel the way that Harry did.
For the first time in a long while, she was starting to feel brave enough to ask herself the right questions. Questions that she was now sure she had the answers to.
❀•°❀°•❀
The next morning, Louis moved slowly through her flat, barefoot on the cool wooden floor. Her body felt heavy with the weight of yesterday, both the lingering strain of her date with Sophia and the quiet, unsettling feeling that already sat in her chest. She rubbed at her temple, trying to ease the low thrum behind her eyes.
She found herself pacing without meaning to, arms crossed loosely over her chest as she drifted between the windows and the kitchen. The weather looked dreadful, part of it resembling her current mood.
Louis sank into the couch, Mabel curling up beside her with a sigh. Morning light spilled across the room, but she barely noticed, her gaze fixed on nothing in particular. Her phone buzzed, she glanced down to see it was Grace checking in, reminding her not to go quiet. Louis stared at the message, chewing the inside of her cheek. Had she been circling around the truth this whole time? Distracting herself with doubts just to avoid what she already knew deep down?
Her mind felt all over the place, each thought circling the same questions. Was she ready? Could she risk trusting her heart again after all this time?
She knew the answer and had known it quietly ever since Harry came back. She had wanted it more than she’d ever let herself admit this far.
Her phone rested on her lap. Slowly, she reached for it, opening the messages app. Her thumb trembled slightly as she typed in the name she had wanted to reach out to, followed by a heartfelt message.
Hi. I’ve been thinking. I know our conversation stirred things for both of us. If you’re still open to it…would you like to come over today?
She hesitated, thumb hovering over the send button for a moment. Then she pressed it.
Harry’s reply came within minutes. I’d love to. Can I come over in an hour?
Louis let out a slow breath she hadn’t realised she was holding, her fingers trailing through Mabel’s soft fur. “Guess we’ll have to look extra pretty, hm?” she murmured, her voice carrying a quiet sense of hope.
An hour later, Louis had slipped into one of her favourite outfits. A brown dress with a low V-neckline and her go-to boots that gave her just a little extra height and made her legs look a touch more defined. She was reaching for a treat to give Mabel when a quiet knock sounded from the door.
She ran her hands down the fabric of her dress, smoothing it instinctively as she walked towards the door. With a steadying breath, she turned the handle, and there was Harry, her eyes soft and familiar.
Harry was wearing light-washed jeans paired with a white shirt, the sleeves of a blue striped blouse rolled up casually at her forearms. Her rings glinted softly on nearly every finger, just as Louis remembered. It took more effort than she liked to admit to keep her eyes from lingering too long, her gaze lifting quickly so she wouldn’t get caught staring.
“Hi,” she murmured, her gaze locking with Harry’s and lingering there, something unspoken hanging between them.
“Hey,” Harry returned, voice casual, though something else was laced underneath. “Thank you for inviting me over.”
Louis nodded, stepping aside to let her in, “Come in. Would you like something to drink? Tea? Wine? Water?”
“Louis,” Harry said, pausing just inside the doorway, her eyes flicking over her quickly. “You look amazing,” she said, her voice a little lower.
“Oh,” Louis murmured, a blush creeping up on her cheeks as she smiled. “Thank you, you look really good too,” she added, gently closing the door behind them.
“Tea would be lovely,” Harry said eventually, answering Louis’ previous question.
Louis gave a small nod and motioned towards the couch as they walked into the living room. “Make yourself comfortable,” she said. Harry sat down, only for Mabel to hop up beside her almost immediately, curling into her side with a soft meow.
“Hey girl,” Harry said softly, reaching out to gently stroke her back. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Her voice held a certain tenderness.
Louis watched from the kitchen, her fingers curled loosely around the edge of the corner. Her chest tightened as she watched Mabel melt into Harry’s hand like no time had passed. Mabel had always adored her, just as Louis had, and clearly, three years hadn’t done anything to change that.
She returned from the kitchen with a small tray balanced carefully in her hands, two mismatched mugs of tea nestled on top. She handed one to Harry, their fingers brushing lightly in the exchange.
They both paused, a breath caught between them, and when their eyes met, there was an unspoken question hanging there.
Louis drew in a slow breath, steadying the nerves that fluttered just beneath her ribs. Her fingers curled around the warm mug in her lap, “I…I’m really glad you came,” she said finally, her voice quiet but certain. “I told you I’d think about everything, and I have,” she glanced over at Harry.
“I felt it too,” she admitted, swallowing hard as her throat tightened. “At the photoshoot and when you asked if there was still a possibility…I felt it then.” Her voice wavered just a little, betraying the vulnerability she tried to hide.
Louis watched the way Harry’s eyes lit up, but she had to tell her everything that was on her heart. “But I’m also a little scared,” she confessed softly. “Scared that you’ll leave again soon.”
Harry nodded slowly, her gaze steady as she shifted to face Louis fully. “I understand that,” she said softly, her voice sincere. “But ever since I saw you again, I’ve wanted to be here. With you.”
Louis tried to ignore the way her heart fluttered at that.
“Mia told me I might have already found my place,” Harry confessed, her eyes holding Louis’. “I just need someone to tell me it’s okay to stay. And…I think she’s right.”
“Meaning?” Louis asked carefully.
“I’ve been to a lot of places, met so many people,” Harry said quietly, “but I never stayed anywhere for long. It never felt like home.” She glanced at Louis. “Seeing you again at the photoshoot…it was different. Something inside me told me to stay, and that feeling didn’t fade, not even in New Zealand.”
Louis took a moment to let Harry’s words settle in. Her heart slowed its frantic rhythm, and she pressed her lips together. Harry’s hand wrapped lightly around her wrist, “Are you okay?”
“I am,” Louis nodded firmly, meeting Harry’s gaze. “I get it, the feeling that no matter where you are, it doesn’t feel like home unless that one person is there too. London is my home, but…there was always something missing.”
Harry gave a gentle nod, her thumb brushing lightly along Louis’ wrist where her hand remained. The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, it gave Louis the space she needed to lean into the moment.
“I think,” Louis started again, her voice softer now, “what scares me most is not knowing if this will last. We both walked away before, and I don’t think I could do that again, not like last time.”
Harry’s eyes flickered, something light and secure lighting up behind them. “I don’t want to walk away,” she said simply. “Not anymore. That’s why I came back.”
Louis looked down for a moment, her fingers brushing against the rim of her teacup. “And if something changes?” she asked, barely above a whisper. “If you feel that pull to move again, to go somewhere else?”
“Then I’ll talk to you about it, instead of making the choice alone. I came back because I still believe in us. And I’m ready to try, if you are.”
The words settled between them, and Louis felt herself smile at Harry’s words.
After a moment, Harry tilted her head slightly, watching her. “Is there anything you need right now?”
Louis hesitated for a split second, before her eyes lifted up and met Harry’s. “Yes,” she said lightly, “I could use a hug.”
A soft laugh escaped from her, but her eyes never left Louis’. “Well, I’m glad you said so.”
She opened her arms, and Louis leaned in slowly, unsure at first. But once she settled into the embrace, her body relaxed like it had found something it had long been missing. Her head came to rest against Harry’s shoulder, and Harry’s arms wrapped around her securely. The hug was comforting, slowly stitching something back together without saying a word.
“I missed this,” Louis murmured into her shoulder, the words muffled but clear. “I missed you.”
Harry tightened her arms just slightly, “I missed you too.”
When they finally pulled apart, it was with a shared softness, something familiar blooming between them. Harry’s hand lingered on Louis’ arm as they settled back into their seats.
Then, without a word, Harry stood up.
Louis looked up in confusion as she watched her walk to the door. “What are you-?”
But Harry didn’t answer. She opened the door quietly, stepped out, and closed it behind her. Louis blinked, startled, her heart thudding in her chest in a way she hadn’t expected, “Harry?”
She stood up, unsure, just as a gentle knock sounded at the door. Louis opened it slowly.
Harry stood there, a crooked smile playing at her lips, her hands tucked into her jeans. “Hey,” she said softly, like it was their first meeting again.
Louis couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her, “Hi?”
“I forgot something,” Harry said with a shrug.
“What?” Louis raised an eyebrow, lips parting slightly.
Harry took a breath, then met her eyes steadily. “Would you like to go on a date with me, Louis?”
The sincerity in her voice made something in Louis’ chest warm and break open at the same time. She stared at Harry for a second longer, speechless, before smiling wide, maybe the first time in a long time that felt entirely effortless.
“Yes,” she said. “I would love to.”
Harry smiled back, reaching her eyes. And just like that, the air between them changed into something certain, achingly familiar.
Louis stepped aside and let her in again, the weight in her chest feeling lighter already. This time, she knew what she wanted. And she knew Harry did too.
❀•°❀°•❀
“I always figured there was a reason why you never took that necklace off,” Grace leaned casually against the counter, her eyes flicking to the chain resting against Louis’ collarbones.
It was just after closing, and Grace had come by under the pretense of helping Louis clean, though she had spent more time nibbling on leftover pastries than wiping anything down. It hadn’t taken long before the conversation naturally circled back to Harry.
Louis bit back a smile, “She gave it to me before we even went on our first date,” she said quietly. “Told me she had a feeling that we’d end up together someday. She wasn’t wrong about that.”
“How’d you two even meet anyway?” Grace asked, her voice muffled slightly as she spoke around a bite of oatmeal cookie, crumbs clinging to her fingertips.
“We had English and Geography together,” Louis said, setting the sponge aside with a soft laugh. “One day, we got paired for a project, and well, turns out Harry had this massive crush on me. She practically begged the teacher to make sure we ended up together.”
Grace raised her eyebrows, clearly amused.
“She showed up to every study session with these ridiculous colour-coded notes and baked goods because she knew that I liked to bake. She swore that she made them herself, but I still doubt it to this day,” Louis laughed.
Grace shook her head with a small laugh. “What’s inside the locket?” she asked curiously, reaching for another cookie.
Louis reached for it instinctively, her fingers brushing against the silver surface but not opening it. “When she first gave it to me, it only had a photo of me inside,” she said softly. “But now…there’s a photo of my mum, Harry, and me in the other side.”
Grace’s expression changed, her features softening with understanding as she looked at Louis.
“I haven’t opened it since…” Louis let the words fade, knowing she didn’t need to finish the sentence. “They were the most important people in my life once, and having Harry back in it now means a lot.”
Grace leaned back against the counter, watching Louis quietly for a moment before a knowing smile curled at the edges of her mouth. “You know,” she said, “you look different.”
Louis raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”
She shrugged, the same smile still tugging at her lips. “Lighter. Like you finally let go of something you’ve been carrying around for way too long.”
Louis didn’t say anything for a moment, just pressed the sponge she had previously put down onto the counter lightly. “I think I did,” she admitted. “Or at least, I’ve started to.”
Grace tilted her head slightly, “Was it the talk with Harry?”
Nodding, Louis’ gaze softened. “Yes. It felt honest, like neither of us was hiding from anything anymore. For the first time in years, I felt like everything made sense.”
Grace’s smile widened just a little, “So what’s next then? Are you two planning to move in together next week or?”
Louis rolled her eyes with a chuckle, “Absolutely not,” she said. “She’s taking me out on a real date.”
“A real date?”
“A real one,” Louis confirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “She asked me out the other night, right after our conversation. She knocked on my door and waited for me to answer, all dramatic.”
“It’s what you deserve, though,” Grace smiled fondly as she looked at her. “Someone who doesn’t hesitate. Who’s sure about you and makes that clear.”
“It’s strange,” she admitted, her voice quiet. “You’d think that after all those years apart, there’d be some awkwardness, some distanc,e but it’s like none of that existed. I’ve never felt more at ease with someone.”
It was the feeling that had settled deep in her chest after their conversation. The way Harry had looked at her, the warmth of her arms around her, the silence that didn’t need filling. It hadn’t left her since. If anything, it had only grown stronger. Everything about that moment told her that it was right. Letting Harry back in wasn’t just okay, it felt like the first time in a long time that she could breathe fully.
“Where’s she taking you?”
“She won’t tell me,” Louis said with a light shake of her head. “She told me to trust her, that it’s a surprise. I think she wants it to feel new. Like a fresh start.”
Grace’s expression turned into something less teasing this time, “Is that what you want too?”
“Yes, I do,” she nodded, her voice steady. “I want this to be something we both step into with the same kind of certainty. Something we can grow from together.”
Louis looked up, continuing. “It was always real. That’s the thing. Even when we ended, it wasn’t because it wasn’t real. It was because we were scare,d and life was pulling us in different directions. I think that’s why this second chance matters so much to me.”
“You’re being brave, Lou,” Grace said after a moment. “Letting someone back in, especially after you’ve been so close to them before.”
Louis didn’t answer right away. Her fingers tightened slightly around the spong,e causing it to dribble water onto the counter. She stared down at it for a long moment.
Grace crossed the space between them and bumped her gently with her shoulder. “You don’t have to pretend anymore, especially if she’s here to stay.”
Smiling softly, Louis turned to her. “She told me she wants to. That something changed when she saw me again. That maybe she finally found the place she wants to call home.”
“And you believe her?” Grace asked, not with doubt but with genuine interest.
Louis nodded, “I do. I saw it in her eyes, and I know her well enough to know when she’s being honest,” she smiled softly.
Grace picked up another cookie, only to break it in half and hand a piece to Louis. “Then maybe this is the start of something better than what you had before. You both know more now, lived more. And yet you still found each other again.”
“We’re not who we used to be, but in the best ways,” Louis said as she took the cookie. “Maybe time apart was what we needed to figure ourselves out. And now we get to see what it’s like to come back.”
The thought stirred something bright in her chest, a flicker of anticipation that bloomed into something steady. It wasn’t just the idea of going on a date or seeing Harry again, it was the promise beneath it. The hope of what they might rebuild, of what could grow.
At the sound of Grace’s chuckle, Louis blinked and turned her head, a curious smile tugging at her lips. “What?” she asked, her voice light as she tilted her head.
“I don’t think that you have to be so scared,” Grace smiled. “Because from the way you talk about it, and how you look when you do, I don’t think you could stop yourself from falling even if you tried.”
Louis gave a quiet laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, she doesn’t make it easy not to.”
They stood in silence for a moment, the only sound coming from the cars passing by outside. Louis glanced towards the locket resting against her chest, reminding her of what she once had and, most importantly, where she might be going.
Grace picked up the broom, finally making an effort to help. “Guess I better be extra nice to you before you become completely insufferable with happiness.”
Louis snorted, wiping down the last bit of the counter. “You love it.”
“I really do,” she winked.
❀•°❀°•❀
The sky outside had just started to turn into a greyish blue as Louis was smoothing a hand down the fabric of her denim skirt, catching her reflection in the hallway mirror, when a gentle knock sounded from the door.
She took a steadying breath, expecting to see Harry on the other side, but instead she was greeted by a bouquet of flowers held up like a shield. A startled laugh escaped her, “Well, hello to you, too.”
Only then did the flowers lower, revealing Harry’s face behind them, smiling. “Thought I’d make an entrance,” she said lightly. “Do you like them?”
Louis reached for the bouquet, fingers brushing Harry’s in the exchange. “They’re beautiful,” she said honestly, taking in the wild mix of colours. “Are these marigolds?”
Harry’s grin widened, “They reminded me of that story you once told me, about how your mum said you always had to sneeze when you were near them as a child.”
Looking down at the petals, something warm unfolded in her chest. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”
“I remember a lot of things,” Harry replied. She took a moment to properly look at Louis, eyes trailing the gentle wave of her hair, the coat of mascara on her lashes, and the way the denim skirt hugged her frame. “You look beautiful.”
Louis’ eyes lifted to meet hers, a faint shade of pink blooming across her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said quietly, then cleared her throat. “I’ll just put these in a vase,” she added, nodding towards the hall. “I’ll only be a minute.”
A moment later, Louis reappeared, the faintest hint of flowers still clinging to her hands. She reached for her coat, lifting it from the hook by the door and slipping it on in one smooth motion. “Ready when you are,” she said with a small smile tugging at her lips.
Harry reached out, her hand warm as she offered it to Louis. “I’m more than ready,” she said with a grin. As they stepped outside, she gently linked their arms together, the gesture so natural it made Louis’ chest ache in the best way. They fell into easy steps, the cool air brushing against their cheeks as they walked side by side.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”
“No,” Harry said as they turned the corner. “You said you trusted me.”
Louis gave her a sideways glance, lips curving slightly. “I do, but I still don’t like surprises.”
Harry laughed softly, and it echoed lightly through the quiet street, “You’ll like this one.”
They didn’t talk much as they walked, the silence sitting comfortably between them. Occasionally, their shoulders brushed. Louis noticed the way Harry’s hands stayed in her pockets, like she was resisting the urge to reach out.
Eventually, Harry stopped in front of a worn brick building tucked between two cafés. Louis blinked, recognising the place from years ago. The old community centre.
“Harry,” Louis started, her eyebrows furrowed, “why are we-“
“Come on,” Harry said, her grin widening as she pushed open the door and stepped aside. She held it open with a playful bow of her head, motioning for Louis to go in first.
The smell hit her first, faint popcorn, dusty floors, a hint of lemon cleaning spray. The lobby was quiet, but somewhere beyond the hall, music sounded softly. Louis followed Harry through a corridor that opened into a space she hadn’t seen in years, and when she did, she stopped in her tracks.
“Oh my god.”
Harry looked at her, clearly pleased with herself.
The gym had been converted into a pop-up roller rink. Synthetic flooring reflected the low, multicoloured lights hung up along the ceiling, and there was already a multitude of people skating around, some clinging to the walls and others gliding effortlessly across the floor. There was a vending machine buzzing in the corner, and the speakers were playing something retro and upbeat that Louis hadn’t heard in years.
“I can’t believe this place still does this,” she said, voice somewhere between awe and amusement. “This is ridiculous.”
Harry smiled, Youu told me once that roller skating here was one of your favourite memories.”
Louis looked at her, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I also told you that I sprained my ankle that day.”
“But you had fun.”
Louis let out a quiet laugh. The memory came back vividly, sticky soda on the floor, a scuffed knee, and her eating overpriced cotton candy while she balanced an ice pack on her ankle.
She shook her head with a smile tugging at her lips, glancing at Harry. “You’re unbelievable,” she said, the words laced with fondness more than exasperation.
They laced up skates at a table near the edge of the rink, Harry slipping into hers like second nature while Louis stared at hers as though they might attack her.
“I swear if I fall and break something tonight…”
Harry glanced over, eyes warm. “I’ll catch you,” she promised.
Louis arched an eyebrow, her lips tugging into a smirk as she stepped past her. “That’s a big promise to make,” she said, glancing back at Harry with amused eyes.
“I’ve got long arms,” Harry said with a smile.
The first few minutes were awkward. Louis stumbled, gripping the railing like her life depended on it while Harry skated in easy circles, occasionally looping back to offer her a hand. Louis waved it off stubbornly until eventually, she pushed off the wall and joined her in the middle of the rink with wobbly, uncertain legs.
“Oh god,” she muttered as she neared Harry. Just then, her balance faltered, and she reached out instinctively, grabbing onto Harry’s arm with both hands before she could fall. Harry laughed, steadying them both with her palm resting at the small of Louis’ back.
They found a rhythm after that. Their movements slowly syncing, tentative glides turning into real ones, and cautious turns becoming more steady. Laughter echoed between the,m and Louis realised that she hadn’t laughed like this in a long time. It made her cheeks ache and her lungs burn.
She caught Harry looking at her a few times, really looking, and she tried not to overthink it. Tried not to wonder if she was feeling the same thing.
“I forgot how much fun this was,” Louis said as they skated side by side, a little out of breath.
“Wait,” Harry said, her hand reaching out for Louis’ before she quickened her pace. Louis let out a startled laugh, stumbling slightly to keep up as Harry tugged her forward with a grin, leaving her glancing at the girl’s back with an amused confusion.
They slowed to a stop near the center of the rink, the lights casting soft colours on their faces. Harry turned slightly towards her. “Now,” she said, voice low. “Twirl into my arms.”
Louis let out a soft giggle, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she glanced sideways at Harry. “You know,” she said with a teasing tilt of her head, “if you wanted to hold me in your arms, you could’ve just asked.”
Harry said something in response, but Louis barely registered it. The way the lights framed her face made everything around them slow down. Her eyes crinkled with a familiar smi,le and the soft glow caught angles of her jaw, making it look even sharper than usual. She looked stunning, effortlessly so, and Louis felt her breath catch for just a second. Her heart gave a stuttered bea,t and she quickly turned her attention back to where they were going, willing herself to stay grounded.
“Thank you for taking me here,” Louis said softly, her cheeks still flushed from laughter which only spread as she looked at Harry. They had kicked off their skates and now sat outside of the rink comfortably.
“I should be thanking you,” Harry replied. She reached out, her fingers brushing gently against Louis’ before curling around them. “I know how much you value your space, your peace. Letting me back into that…it means more than I can say.”
“This date has confirmed that you’re worth it,” Louis said sincerely as her fingers absently toyed with the rings on Harry’s, the motion as natural as it used to be. A small smile tugged at her lips,Youou just have to keep it up,” she added teasingly.
Harry let out a breath of laughter, her fingers squeezing Louis’ just a little tighter. “Good,” she said, a playful glint in her eyes. “Because I’m already planning the next one.”
Louis leaned back a little, watching her. Something inside her felt more at peace for the first time in a while. She hadn’t been unhappy, far from that, but something about being beside Harry again and knowing that it felt right made her look forward to the next time they’d see each other.
❀•°❀°•❀
A few days later, the bakery was busier than it might have been ever since the award show. From the moment Louis had unlocked the door that morning, it had been a steady stream of customers and a few unexpected deliveries. By the time the sun had dipped below the buildings and the last customers filtered out with paper bags in hand, Louis was still behind the counter, apron dusted in flour and her hair falling loose from its clip.
She let out a small sigh, glancing at the clock and wincing when she saw the time. It was much later than she’d planned to still be here. The closing checklist sat half finished beside her, ink smudged from her hurried notes.
Normally, she’d be locking up by now, maybe already home and changed into something more comfortable and curled up with Mabel. But tonight wasn’t just any night. She was supposed to be seeing Harry.
The thought made her stomach twist a little. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she did. Badly. And she hated that she was about to be late for something they’d both been looking forward to. She wiped her hands on a clean towel and reached for her phone, ready to call and apologise when a soft knock sounded at the glass door.
She turned at the sound and her eyes landed on a familiar figure just outside the bakery. Harry stood there, holding two paper takeout bags in one hand and a small, slightly lopsided bouquet of wildflowers in the other. Louis felt her breath catch in her throat, her hand frozen around her phone.
The sight was heartwarming, Harry in a soft brown jacket with her hair pulled back loosely, the smile on her face unmistakably patient, like she’d expected this to happen and was quick to come prepared. The wildflowers weren’t perfect, not the kind you’d get from a florist, but they were picked with intention, Louis could tell. There were cornflowers and daisies, a few stems of lavender tucked between them.
Louis rushed to the door, unlocking it quickly and pulling it open with a mix of surprise and guilt, “Harry-“
But Harry just offered her a small smile. “Before you apologise,” she said, holding out the food, “I brought dinner. And before you say anything else, yes, I had a feeling you’d still be here.”
Louis blinked, still slightly stunned at Harry’s presence. “You didn’t have to do that…”
“I wanted to,” Harry replied simply. “I figured if the bakery is too busy for the date, the date can come to the bakery.”
She let out a quiet laugh, the tension in her shoulders loosening as she stepped aside to let her in. “You’re ridiculous,” she murmured, fondness blooming in her chest.
Harry grinned as she walked past her, “Maybe. But I’m also right on time.”
Louis shut her mouth quickly and cleared her throat. “I was about to text,” she stammered, shaking her head. “I’ve been trying not to let this busyness consume me, but- this place doesn’t let up.”
She watched as Harry stepped closer and brushed back a loose strand of her hair. “I don't mind waiting for you,” she said honestly. “I wanted to come by anyway, check on you. And you need to eat,” she pulled out two cups from the bags. “Thai noodles and pork buns, your favourite.”
Louis blinked, her exhaustion overshadowed by relief. She gave Harry a small, tired smile. “You’re too kind,” she whispered.
They sat at a small corner table beneath the bakery’s front window, the same one Louis liked to sit at as she took quiet moments before her morning rush. Louis slid into a chair, while Harry settled opposite.
They ate slowly, talking in hushed voices over take-out cartons. Harry teased Louis about working too hard, and Louis laughed, telling her it was about making the bakery a success, making it mean something to more than just herself.
At one point, Harry looked at Louis deeply and said, Youu do that every day, build something worth being proud of.”
Louis felt something bloom inside her chest, warm and full of gratitude. “I just…feel like I can’t slow down,” she hesitated. “But I want it to matter. I think it already does because after all, it brought you back here.”
Harry’s gaze softened, “I’m glad I decided to go through with the photoshoot.”
Smiling gently, Louis rested her elbows on the small table between them. The bakery was quiet around them, save for the occasional hum of a distant car or the soft buzz of the light overhead. It was far from the dinner they had planned, but somehow this felt even better. Just the two of them.
“I almost didn’t do it, you know,” Harry admitted after a moment, her voice low and thoughtful. “The photoshoot, I mean. I watched you win and I…almost called out of it.”
Louis looked up, eyes widening just slightly. “Really?”
Harry nodded slowly. “I talked about it with the magazine, I couldn’t give them the actual reason for my hesitation, and I figured that it wouldn’t be too horrible to see you again.”
“It’s crazy when you think about it,” Louis let a small laugh escape from her lips.
Harry leaned forward slightly, smile lingering but eyes serious. “Is it? Because I remember thinking…if there was ever a sign to go, that was it. The last time I saw you, I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance again.”
Louis was quiet for a moment, the weight of the words settling gently between them. Then she said, “When you walked through the door that day, it was like time hadn’t really passed.”
“It scared me,” Harry said honestly. “How quickly it all came back. How easily I could see myself falling into this again.”
“Into me?” Louis asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Harry nodded, “into us.”
The silence that followed wasn’t heavy, it was full. Thick with memories and hope and things they hadn’t quite figured out how to name. Louis shifted slightly in her seat, her knee brushing against Harry’s under the table. She didn’t move it.
“You’re not the only one who was scared,” Louis said softly. “When you showed up, I thought, I’m finally okay, and here you are. And what if I let you back in and everything unravels?”
“And now?” A smile tugged at Harry’s lips.
“Now I’m glad we’re getting this back,” Louis spread her hand out across the table as she reached for Harry’s. “I missed this.”
Harry wiped her mouth with a napkin, humming. “Dance with me?” she asked suddenly, momentarily catching Louis off guard.
Louis flushed, standing up with Harry’s hand in hers. Quiet music played on the small radio, some old tune with a soft piano melody, just enough to coax their feet into movement on the floor.
Harry wrapped her arms around Louis gently. She stiffened momentarily, then let her head rest against Harry’s shoulder, closing her eyes to feel the steady heartbeat against her back.
Her heart was beating too fast. She was sure Harry could feel it, the erratic flutter of it where their bodies touched. But neither of them moved away. Instead, Harry twirled her around and tightened her arm around her. Drawing her in closer, hand sliding to the small of Louis’ back like she’d never stopped knowing where to hold her.
They swayed quietly, just barely moving to the quiet music. Louis kept her eyes closed, letting herself feel the rise and fall of Harry’s chest, the faint trace of her perfume.
“I used to imagine this,” Harry said softly, lips pressed close to Louis’ temple.
Louis blinked slowly, but didn’t move. “This?”
“Dancing with you. Just like this,” Harry’s voice was a little unsteady. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to again.”
That made Louis pull back slightly, enough to see her face. There was something raw in Harry’s expression, a tenderness that hadn’t been softened. “I didn’t think so either,” Louis admitted.
She wasn’t sure what else to say. The words settle between them like something sacred. She could feel the weight of the moment building, a quiet hum in the air between them, like static before a storm. She became painfully aware of the distance, how little was left. How easily it could disappear.
Harry’s eyes dropped briefly to her lips, and Louis felt her breath catch. She looked back up, meeting her gaze again, waiting.
Neither of them moved.
Louis’ hand twitched where it rested near Harry’s shoulder. Her fingers curled lightly into the fabric of her jumper. She could feel the tension in her own body, not fear, but something excited and breathless.
“Harry,” she breathed, her voice only a whisper of a sound.
Harry’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, her expression unreadable for a moment. “Yes?”
“Are you going to kiss me or…?”
That broke something. Harry laughed, just once, almost like a relief, and then the space between them disappeared.
She kissed her slowly, like she didn’t want to scare the moment away. Her hands came up to cradle Louis’ face gently, like it was something precious. And Louis leaned into it with a sharp, quiet inhale that felt like it came from somewhere deep.
The kiss wasn’t rushed, it was tentative at first. Uncertain, after all this time, but it deepened with a kind of desperation. A knowing. It was careful and soft and a little clumsy in all honesty, it said I missed you more than words ever could.
Louis made a soft sound, almost a sigh, her fingers sliding up to hold onto Harry’s curls. She kissed her back with a growing confidence, her heart pounding against her ribs, her entire body leaning into the feeling like she didn’t want to be anywhere else right now.
When they pulled back, just slightly, their foreheads rested together as they stood there in the middle of the bakery, breathing each other in.
Louis’ eyes were closed, her cheeks were flushed, lips parted slightly like she was waiting for something more.
Harry smiled, brushing a thumb gently against her jaw. “That felt like the first time all over again,” she said, voice soft and gentle.
Louis opened her eyes slowly, a small, overwhelmed smile forming on her lips. “Better,” she said carefully. “It felt better.”
They stayed like that for a long while, entirely consumed in one another, surrounded by the soft hum of the radio and the smell of fresh bread clinging to the air. It wasn’t forced or uncomfortable. It felt safe, and mostly, it felt like them.
And when Harry leaned in again, Louis met her halfway.
❀•°❀°•❀
Louis woke up before the sun came through her curtains, the quietness of the morning only broken by Mabel’s soft purr and the hum of the wind. She slipped out of bed, careful not to wake the cat, and padded into her kitchen. After the last date she had with Harry, she found herself wanting to stay grounded in something gentle, and the sweeter the start, the better.
She set the oven for scones first and then started on almond shortbread and lastly honey lavender madeleines, her favourite. Flour speckled her apron as she reached for a bowl of beaten eggs to wash over the pastries.
Mabel had also woken up by now, watching from her usual sunny spot on the windowsill, tail flicking softly.
It must have been nearly eight when she slid the final tray into the oven. She paused, breathing in the buttery sweetness mixed with honey and lavender. She realised that she was nearly ready for their date.
Every small detail mattered. The baked goods, the color of the blanket she’d carefully folded in her bag, and the straw hat she had chosen for shade. She hoped that Harry would like it, even though she knew that the effort was already worth a lot.
The bell above the door rang at exactly 11:00 am as Louis brushed her hands on her apron, heart fluttering. Mabel meowed from the window. She took a deep breath and pulled the door open. Harry stood there with her usual easy smile, dressed in a navy shirt and jeans. She looked relaxed and ready for the date, and Louis’ chest swelled with warmth.
“Good morning,” Harry said, stepping inside and closing the door behind them gently. “Your home bakery smells amazing,” she added.
Louis smiled, cheeks warm. “Pastries just came out,” she offered, leading her through the living room to the kitchen. She packed the pastries into paper bags and tied them with a ribbon, placing them gently into the basket set on the counter.
Once the basket was full of goodies and the blanket and flasks of tea were packed, they stepped out together. Mabel trotted ahead as Louis clicked the door shut and then fell into step beside Harry, arms swinging loosely together.
They chose a spot in a nearby park where the grass was green and dotted here and there by white daisies. The sky was a pale blue, cloudless and bright. Harry laid out the blanket while Louis let Mabel run free, the cat rolling once in the sun. Then, Harry placed the basket in front of them as Louis sat back and stretched her legs.
Mabel hopped onto the blanket and settled between them. They laughed quietly as Harry took a strawberry, taking a bite and then gently fed Louis the next. “Thank you,” she blushed, licking her lips.
“They’re almost as sweet as you,” Harry said, voice low and warm with affection. The words were undeniably cheesy, but something about the way she said it sent a flush rising to Louis’ cheeks. She tried to roll her eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at her lips as she shifted, settling her head carefully in Harry’s lap.
After a moment, Harry reached for Louis’ hand, intertwining their fingers lazily. “I missed this,” she said softly.
Louis turned her head, looking into her eyes. “Me too,” her voice wavered slightly, and she hoped it sounded as honest as it was.
They leaned in closer at the same time, Harry letting her lips meet Louis’ gently, just a soft brush of lips. They pulled back, looking into each other’s eyes with certainty.
Harry studied Louis for a moment, her thumb brushing softly along the edge of her hand where their fingers met. The afternoon sun shone through the trees, casting golden shadows across the picnic blanket and the half-eaten pastries between them.
“Do you think we’re going too fast?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as though she was scared to break the softness of the moment.
Louis blinked slowly, the question hanging between them for a moment. She didn’t answer right away, instead letting her gaze drift upward to where the branches swayed gently in the wind.
When she finally spoke, her voice was steady, full of certainty. “I think…we’re doing what feels right,” she said. “And if it feels right, then I don’t think it matters how fast or slow it goes.”
Harry’s shoulders relaxed with the words, feeling another piece fall into place in her chest. “I just don’t want to mess this up,” she admitted, her free hand reaching out to gently trail over Louis’ face.
Louis turned her cheek slightly into the touch, her eyes finding Harry’s once more. “You’re not,” she said. “You’re as likely to mess it up as I am,” she whispered.
A small, grateful smile touched Harry’s lips as she squeezed Louis’ hand. “I really love being near you, you know that?” she said confidently. “Just…being near you. You calm something in me that no one else ever has.”
“That’s how I’ve always felt about you,” Louis said as she sat up slightly, one leg tucked beneath her. “Even when we weren’t talking, I’d think about you in moments that mattered to me.”
Harry didn’t answer right away. Instead, her eyes lingered on Louis, taking in every detail. The wind blew softly through her hair, lifting loose strands and brushing them against the gloss on her lips. Harry had to resist the urge to pull them off. Louis’ eyes, clear and impossibly blue in the daylight, held something calm and knowing. It was in the curve of her mouth, the small crease between her eyebrows when she was thinking, the way her shoulders relaxed just slightly when she was at ease. All of it made something stir with happiness in Harry’s chest.
She couldn’t help but think of that train station again. Of the version of herself that had walked away, unaware of how long it would take to find her way back. And now, with Louis sitting beside her, Harry wondered how she had ever managed to leave at all.
“What?” Louis asked as she tilted her head curiously.
“I’m just thinking about how beautiful you are,” Harry said quietly. “And how much of an idiot I was for ever letting you go.”
Shaking her head, Louis climbed into Harry’s lap without any hesitation. She cupped Harry’s face gently in her hands, thumbs brushing along the curve of her jaw as she looked into her eyes. “We let each other go,” she said softly, her voice laced with emotion. “And it was okay at the time. It only brought us back here.”
“You’re truly amazing, do you know that?”
“Eh,” Louis shrugged, “I’ve been told maybe once or twice.”
“And still a menace,” Harry murmured with a grin, her hands sliding up to Louis’ waist as she gave her a gentle tickle, just enough to make Louis squirm and let out a breathy laugh, eyes narrowing playfully as she tried to twist away.
A small tickle fight broke loose until Louis found herself stretched out on the blanket, her chest rising and falling beneath Harry’s as she hovered just above her. Their laughter morphed into breathlessness, and for a moment, all the air between them stilled. Heartbeats pounded in sync, and their eyes locked.
Louis was the one to close the space between them, slipping her hand gently behind Harry’s neck as she pulled her in. She let her breath ghost over Harry’s lips for a second, before letting them meet in a confident kiss. Harry kissed her back just as naturally, like they both finally understood that this was where they were meant to be. Together.
And just as Louis bit softly on Harry’s bottom lip, seeking permission to deepen the kiss, she heard Mabel purr faintly. A gentle reminder that even she seemed content with Harry being back in their lives.
❀•°❀°•❀
Harry’s name lit up the screen of Louis’ phone just as she was mid-laugh, coffee cup in hand, and Grace grinning across from her. The café was busy around them, but everything seemed to go quiet as she accepted the call. Grace arched a teasing eyebrow, mouthing something that made Louis stifle another laugh.
“Hi, Harry,” she said, voice coming through gently.
There was a bit of muffled rustling on the other end before Harry’s voice came through. “Hey, Lou,” she said. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Not at all,” she said, her voice pointed as Grace shot her another amused look over the rim of her mug. She turned away slightly, trying to ignore the knowing grin tugging at her friend’s lips. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you were free tonight,” Harry asked, her voice casual like she was trying not to sound too eager.
“Depends,” Louis said, her tone light as a small smile pulled at her lips. “What do you have in mind?”
It was moments like these that made Louis appreciate how far they’d come in the time they had reconnected. She cherished every second spent with Harry. Every conversation, every touch, but there was something about the quieter moments, the ones that came with a natural ease that felt extra special. When things were this soft between them, it reminded her why letting Harry back in had felt so instinctively right.
“I have some good news that I want to celebrate,” Harry said, and Louis could hear the smile in her voice, warm and bright even through the speaker. “So I was wondering if you’d want to come out for a drink tonight. Mia and I were going to go, and I thought it’d be nice if you came too.”
“Oh…” Louis breathed out before she could stop herself.
At the mention of Mia, something in her chest tightened slightly. A nervousness surfacing even though she knew there wasn’t a specific reason why it did.
“Lou?” Harry’s voice came through the speaker again. “If you already have plans, that’s alright too. No pressure.”
Louis blinked, snapping out of her brief spiral. “No, I don’t have any plans,” she said quickly, shifting in her seat. “I would love to come with,” she smiled.
“Ask Grace to come with, if you want to, she’s more than welcome to join.”
Glancing at her friend, Louis saw her looking way too satisfied with these events already. With a small shake of her head, she let out a quiet breath. “She’ll be very happy to,” she said, knowing full well Grace wouldn’t pass up the chance to properly meet Harry.
“Great!” Harry said, the excitement unmistakable in her voice. “Does 8:30 work? We can meet you there, unless you’d rather we come pick you up? I don’t mind at all.”
“We’ll meet you there at 8:30, Harry,” Louis said softly, her tone warm like the flutter in her chest. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“I am too,” were the last words Harry said before the line went quiet, her voice still echoing softly in Louis’ ears. She lowered the phone, only to find Grace watching her with a raised eyebrow and a smirk tugging at her lips, all too amused.
Grace leaned forward with a mischievous grin, “What did the lover girl want?” she asked, her tone teasing.
Louis rolled her eyes, though the blush creeping up her cheeks betrayed her. “She’s got something she wants to celebrate,” she said, trying to sound casual as she reached for her coffee. “She wants to go out tonight to celebrate.”
“With you?” Grace asked, already knowing the answer.
Louis hummed in quiet confirmation, then bit the inside of her cheek. “And Mia,” she added, the name coming out a little softer.
Grace shot her a look, one eyebrow arched in curiosity.
“Harry’s sister,” she clarified, glancing down at her coffee cup, fingers tracing the rim absentmindedly.
“And that’s a problem?” Grace asked, her voice gentle. There wasn’t any judgement in her tone, just a caution, not wanting to press too hard in case Louis wasn’t ready to talk about it.
Louis shook her head immediately. “No, we always got along,” she said. “Mia’s great.” She paused for a second, looking at her friend. “I don’t know. I guess it just feels a bit strange seeing her again now. It’s been so long.”
“I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you again,” Grace said softly, her hand brushing against Louis’ arm in a gesture of reassurance. “And even if it’s a little awkward at first, I think what you and Harry have now, what it’s becoming, it feels strong.” Her voice was gentle but certain, and it made something inside Louis loosen just a little.
“Well,” Louis said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “If it does get awkward, you’ll be there to rescue me,” she paused, then added, “Harry said to ask you to come too.”
“Lucky for you, my schedule is empty,” Grace winked.
Later that night, Louis’ nerves still hadn’t quite settled. As she moved around her flat, getting ready, her thoughts kept circling back to Mia. She’d known her once, well enough to laugh over dinner and exchange inside jokes, but that had been years ago. Even if they’d parted on good terms, Mia was still Harry’s sister. Still, someone whose opinion mattered deeply to Harry.
“You’re on a mission,” Grace whistled as she stepped into her bedroom, leaning casually against the doorframe just as Louis was finishing her earrings. Her eyes swept over the red dress, the soft waves framing Louis’ fac,e and the delicate shimmer of makeup. “You look amazing, Lou.”
Louis gave a quiet laugh, glancing at her reflection once more before turning to face her friend. “You don’t think it’s too much?” she asked, smoothing her hands down the sides of the dress out of habit.
Grace tilted her head, walking over with a grin. “It’s just the right amount of much. Trust me, Harry’s not going to know what hit her.”
“It has to be,” Louis said with a soft smile, more to herself than to Grace, before checking the time on her phone. “Because we have to leave.”
The bar was already buzzing with energy by the time they stepped inside. Low lights casting a golden glow across the room, the hum of conversation blending with the soft thrum of music. Louis scanned the crowd, her eyes adjusting as she searched for Harry. She spotted her instantly. What surprised he, was that Harry was already looking at her.
It wasn’t surprising at all to Harry, because the moment Louis stepped through the door, her gaze found her with ease.
The red dress clung to Louis’ body in all the right places, elegant without trying too hard, and her hair framed her face with a kind of casual softness that made it hard to look away. Harry had to remind herself to breathe, catching her lower lip between her teeth to stop her mouth from falling open.
“Jesus, Harry,” came Mia’s voice from beside her, dragging her out of her daze. “You still have it just as bad as you did the first time around.”
Harry didn’t even bother denying it. Her eyes were still fixed on Louis, who was now laughing at something Grace had whispered in her ear. “Yes,” she said, “I really do.”
Somehow, Louis’ nerves settled the moment her eyes met Harry’s across the room. It seemed to make sense, she’d spent the whole evening overthinking, her thoughts tangled in memories, but as she walked towards her, everything faded away.
“Hi,” Louis greeted gently, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she offered a soft smile. “Grace, this is Harry and Mia,” she said, motioning towards them with a nod. “Harry and Mia, meet my best friend Grace,” she introduced.
“It’s nice to finally officially meet you,” Harry said as she extended a hand towards Grace, who shook it with an easy smile. Mia followed with a similar gestur, before her gaze shifted to Louis.
“Louis,” she sighed. For a split second, Louis braced herself, unsure of what would come next. But then, Mia’s face broke into a wide grin ,and before Louis could process it, she was pulled into a tight hug.
“Hi Mia,” she murmured, still a little shy as she loosely wrapped her arms around her.
Grace and Mia fell into an easy conversation, already laughing over something within moments of meeting, which made Louis smile. As they turned towards the bar, she felt Harry’s hand slip gently over her waist.
“What do you want to drink?” Harry asked, voice low near her ear, her fingers brushing softly against the fabric of her dress.
“A martini,” Louis smiled as she watched Harry order it for her, requesting extra olives because she knew how much Louis loved them.
The small gesture made something flutter in Louis’ chest. It wasn’t grand, but it was attentive, proof that Harry still remembered these little things.
“So,” Louis said as she turned to Harry with her drink in her hand. “What is it that we’re celebrating today?”
Harry clinked her glass softly against Louis’. “Remember that apartment I told you about?” she asked, continuing as Louis nodded. “I got it. It’s mine.”
“Oh my god,” Louis said, the words tumbling out with a grin that lit up her entire face. She leaned in slowly, her hand brushing gently against Harry’s arm as she pressed a kiss to her lips. “Congratulations,” she murmured against her mouth.
“Thank you, Lou,” Harry said, her smile bright. Just then, Mia slipped in beside them, her expression amused as she shot her sister a knowing look.
“I’m here to steal Louis,” she said, not giving them a chance to react as she took Louis’ hand and pulled her to the other side of the room.
They found a table tucked into the corner of the bar, far enough from the music and chatter to hear each other clearly. Mia turned to her slightly, “I wanted to thank you.”
“Thank me?” Louis questioned.
“If it weren’t for you, Harry would be who knows where right now,” Mia said simply, her tone light but honest. “Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing her chase her dreams, but it’s nice having her around a little longer.”
Louis smiled at that, “I’m happy that she came back,” she said quietly. “Getting the chance to reconnect was a little bit scary at firs,t but I feel really grounded with her being here.”
“I can tell that it’s mutual,” Mia smiled. “It’s in her eyes wherever she looks at you.”
Just then, their conversation was interrupted by the sound of laughter, Harry and Grace making their way to the table. As they sat, Harry’s hand found Louis’ thigh without hesitation. Louis rested her own hand gently over it, the simple contact making her smile more than anything else could.
“You know,” Harry said, turning her head towards Louis with a soft smile. “If I already had the keys to the apartment, I would ask you to stay the night,” she said softly.
Louis giggled, pursing her lips. “Well, lucky for you. I happen to have a place of my own where you’re more than welcome to stay the night.”
“I was hoping you would say that,” Harry smirked, sealing the statement with a kiss.
❀•°❀°•❀
It was still early when Louis stirred awake for the first time, the sky outside her window a greyish colour. She blinked slowly, sleep clinging to her lashes, and without thinking, she shifted closer to the warm body beside her. The quiet rise and fall of Harry’s breathing met her ears as her fingers brushed gently against her skin.
She rolled over slowly, her body settling on top of Harry’s, her cheeks resting against her chest for a moment before she lifted her gaze. She took her in through her lashes, soft curls spread over the pillow, lips parted slightly.
Sometimes Louis couldn’t help but think it was entirely unfair how Harry could look so effortlessly pretty, even half asleep.
There was something about the way her features softened that made Louis want to stare a little longer. As if something would change if she looked away for too long.
Louis had been so caught up in staring at Harry, completely taken by how peaceful she looked, that she didn’t notice when her eyes fluttered open. So when Harry spoke, it made her jump a little, blinking out of her haze.
“Go back to sleep,” Harry mumbled, her voice low and scratchy with sleep as she cracked one eye open to look at Louis. “It’s way too early for all that staring.”
“How’d you know…?” Louis asked, her voice soft, eyebrows furrowed as she absentmindedly licked her lips.
A teasing smile tugged at Harry’s lips. “I could feel your heartbeat speed up,” she murmured with a lazy shrug. At Louis’ soft laugh, Harry gently pressed a finger to her mouth. “Shh…sleep now.”
With a soft eye roll and a fond smile, Louis rested her head back on Harry’s chest, letting out a quiet sigh. Her eyes fluttered shut, the steady rhythm of Harry’s heartbeat lulling her into a peaceful sleep.
The second time Louis stirred awake, it was to the feeling of fingers gently combing through her hair and soft sunlight slipping through the curtains.
“Good morning,” she mumbled, voice still thick with sleep as she nestled closer to Harry, a quiet yawn escaping her lips.
“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Harry said with a laugh, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Louis’ head.
“Mm…I want to stay here all day.”
Harry hummed, “I’ve got nowhere to be…so if that’s what you want, I’m all in.”
Louis wasn’t used to having slow mornings, let alone days off. But now that she did, the idea of spending it wrapped up with Harry felt like the best possible use of her time. She smiled softly at the thought of staying tangled in bedsheets, sharing quiet conversation and whatever else the day might bring.
Just then, Harry’s stomach gave a loud grumble, cutting through the silence and making both of them burst into soft laughter.
“I’ll make us breakfast,” Louis murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Harry’s collarbone before slipping off of her. As she moved, the oversized shirt that she wore, Harry’s, hitched up slightly, revealing a glimpse of bare skin.
Harry’s fingers twitched with the urge to reach out, but she stayed where she was, content for the moment to just watch. Louis stretched her arms above her head as she walked out of the bedroom, the hem of the shirt lifting just enough to make Harry’s eyes drift.
The tension had been there, evident in every kiss and every lingering glance. But neither of them had dared to push past it, hesitant to rush something that now felt right. After a night spent curled around each other, something had shifted. Like the tension between them, no longer felt uncertain, it felt inevitable.
The moment Louis disappeared into the hallway, Harry let out a dramatic groan, flopping onto her back and burying her face into a pillow. Mabel took that as her cue to hop up onto the bed, curling up beside her. “You’re mum’s trying to kill me,” she mumbled into the fabric, peeking over at the cat. “Completely out of her mind, walking around in my shirt like that.”
“Do you want eggs or yogurt?” Louis called out, reappearing in the doorway with a wooden spoon in hand. Her voice faltered slightly when she caught sight of Harry sprawled across the bed.
The sheets had slipped low on Harry’s frame, exposing the slightly tanned skin and the lines of her toned stomach. Mabel padded off the bed and out of sight, but Louis didn’t follow her movement. Her gaze lingered, fixed on Harry even as their eyes met.
“Lou,” Harry said, voice barely above a whisper as she pushed herself upright. The look in her eyes said everything Louis needed to know.
“Um,” Louis blinked, a blush rising to her cheeks. “Do you want like…yogurt? Eggs?” she cleared her throat, trying to pry her eyes away from Harry’s body.
“Want to ask me again, just to make sure I heard you right?” Harry teased, running a hand through her curls before reaching over for her hair tie on the nightstand. She twisted her hair up into a bun, a small knowing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
Harry knew that look on Louis’ face like no other. The way her eyes softened, suddenly shy and a little unsure while still burning with want.
“No…” Louis breathed, finally dragging her gaze up from Harry’s body to meet the knowing look in her eyes. “I’ll go…yogurt,” she mumbled, cheeks flushed, before quickly turning on her heels and hurrying back to the kitchen.
Harry let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she pushed the covers aside and padded after her.
She found Louis at the counter, focused on slicing fruit and tossing it into two bowls. Harry stepped in quietly, wrapping her arms around Louis’ waist from behind with a soft, gentle pull.
“Did you just run away from me?” Harry murmured into the curve of Louis’ neck, her lips brushing gently against the skin as left a trail of soft kisses there.
Louis turned in her arms, only now realising just how close they were. “Maybe,” she said, a playful pout forming on her lips. “But you’re just so…”
“So?” Harry raised an eyebrow.
“So you,” Louis said, not knowing how else to put it.
A soft grin tugged at Harry’s lips as her hands settled on Louis’ hips. “And you’re also entirely you,” she teased gently as she watched the blush on her cheeks deepen.
Before Louis could get a word out, her eyes just beginning to roll, Harry leaned in, catching Louis’ lips with her own.
Louis met the kiss with a kind of urgency, like they’d both been holding something back for a while. It felt like an agreement between them that it was okay to finally blur the line they’d been tiptoeing around.
Harry’s hands slid from Louis’ hips down to the back of her thighs, lifting her with ease and setting her down on the kitchen counter in one swift movement, all while keeping their lips attached.
“Harry,” Louis gasped softly, her voice catching in her throat as Harry’s hand trailed along the inside of her thigh, pausing there with a kind of possessiveness.
Harry let out a low hum, her lips trailing from Louis’ mouth to the edge of her jaw, then lower to the soft skin of her neck. She felt the shiver that ran through Louis and smiled against her skin. “Yes, baby?” she murmured.
Louis’ fingers slipped into Harry’s curls, guiding her up gently. Her touch was soft, almost hesitant, as she held her there. “I want you,” she whispered, the words barely above a breath.
A slow, knowing smile appeared on Harry’s face as she met Louis’ gaze. She bit down on her lip gently, “Are you sure?”
Louis nodded without hesitation, “Please.”
Harry groaned at that, lifting her up once more. “So polite, baby,” she said as she walked them to the couch.
She carried her with ease, lowering her onto the couch with a soft thud. As her back met the cushions, Harry followed without hesitation, hovering above her as their bodies instinctively pulled towards each other.
Louis’ arms slipped around the back of Harry’s head with ease, drawing her back into a kiss that picked up right where they’d left off.
Harry’s hands found their way to Louis’ shirt, softly sliding underneath. The skin-on-skin contact sent an electric wave through her body. She let it slide up higher, smiling against Louis’ lips as she found that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“You’re absolutely stunning,” Harry said as she pulled back from the kiss for a moment to tug at her shirt impatiently. “May I?”
Louis nodded a little hazily before she registered what she was agreeing to. But she trusted Harry completely, she was more than willing to follow whatever she had in mind.
She lifted her arms, making it easier for Harry to slip the shirt off, and watched as she threw it to the floor carelessly.
“Beautiful,” Harry whispered, more to herself than to Louis, her voice full of awe. Her eyes moved slowly, taking in every detail like she was trying to relearn every detail.
“You always are,” she added after a pause, her thumb brushing lightly over Louis’ cheek. “But right now, it’s a little unreal.”
“Harry,” Louis gasped a little breathlessly as she watched Harry lean down, letting her breath hover over her chest.
Harry looked at her briefly before lowering her lips to Louis’ skin again, gently nibbling on her collarbone. It earned her a soft, breathy whine in return.
Louis laced a hand in Harry’s curls, slowly guiding her to where she wanted her to be. Her nipples had already started to harden from Harry’s touch, and her chest heaved with every breath that she took.
She threw her head back on a soft moan as Harry circled the bud with her tongue, her back arching slightly from the couch.
“You like that, baby?”
She gave a determined nod in response to Harry’s question, the words catching somewhere in her throat.
After a moment, Harry’s body shifted, her attention moving to the other nipple while her hand came up to cup her breast.
“Please,” Louis found herself saying, her voice low and a little shaky, asking, begging, without needing to say exactly what for.
Harry hummed softly, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to Louis’ lips. When she pulled back, her eyes lingered on the deep blush spreading across Louis’ cheeks all the way down to her neck. “I got you,” she whispered as her left hand still drew soft circles over her nipple.
Louis loved this part of Harry, where she was utterly devoted to making her feel good. Harry might be the least selfish partner she has ever had, because she would set aside any of her own needs to make Louis feel good.
She let her legs fall open as Harry positioned herself in between them, still dressed in the sports bra and shorts that she had been wearing the entire morning.
Then, after positioning herself to where she wanted to be, Harry shortly let her hips inch closer to Louis’. The movement sending a short wave of pleasure through both their bodies.
“Harry,” Louis let a moan fall from her lips, her body reacting to the touch as if it had set her on fire.
Something about the way the rough material of her panties dragged over her sensitive pussy made her throb with need, and her mind was slowly getting consumed by the feeling of Harry.
Louis’ body reacted instinctively, her hips rising to meet Harry’s in the same rhythm. The space between them closed, their bodies aligned perfectly like they always had. The room filled with the sound of breathless sighs and urgent sounds silently begging for more.
“You don’t even realise how beautiful you always are,” Harry said through gritted teeth while her hips kept moving. “I’ve been aching to touch you again because you know no one else could ever touch you like this. No one else could ever make you feel the way that I do. Isn’t that right, Lou?”
“Yes,” Louis whimpered. “Harry, I need-“
“I know what you need, baby,” Harry’s hand slowly slipped between Louis’ legs, feeling the dampness that had started to pool there. “Because just this isn’t enough for you, is it?”
“Want to feel you,” she mumbled, her eyes slipping shut for a moment as she ached to feel Harry’s fingers where she wanted them mostly.
Harry hummed, letting a finger slip past the waistband of her panties before retracting it, making Louis let out a whine of desperation. “Can I take these off, baby?” she asked, already hooking her thumbs underneath the material.
“Please,” Louis said, not a moment feeling shy about being completely naked in front of Harry.
Louis’ breathing silently picked up as Harry’s hand slipped further up her thigh, not being able to help herself when she inched her hips forward, letting Harry’s fingers slide across her pussy.
“Patient, baby,” Harry said as she looked up at Louis knowingly. Her voice was so low that it caused Louis to throb beneath the touch.
She whined, instinctively grabbing Harry’s wrist to not let her move away. Instead, she grabbed two of Harry’s fingers, pressing them right against her clit.
Harry shook her head, but still gave her what she wanted as she circled her fingers over the sensitive bud. “I forgot how desperate my touch makes you.”
She sped up the circling of her fingers, loving the way Louis’ body inched closer to the touch without realising it. Her moans began to fill the room, and even more so when Harry’s finger slipped inside of her.
“Fuck,” Louis whined. “I missed you,” she said just as another finger slipped inside of her, stretching her open. “So much.”
“You’re so wet for me,” Harry said, punctuating the statement by inching her fingers in and out of her pussy with a quick pace, causing squelching sounds to fill the space between them.
Louis had a hard time keeping her eyes open as her body was overtaken by pleasure. It had been a while since she slept with someone, and Harry knew her body better than anyone else did.
Just like Harry could read her mind, two of her fingers came up in front of her lips, tapping them softly so she’d open up for them, knowing that Louis would lose her mind even quicker that way.
“Are you going to come for me?” Harry asked as her fingers left Louis’ dripping mess and went back to circling her clit relentlessly.
She nodded, the movement sending Harry’s fingers into her mouth deeper. Her blue eyes were teary as she locked them with Harry’s, the pleasure apparent in every inch of her body.
“Harry,” she moaned as she let the fingers slip from her mouth, a sliver of spit connecting them to her lips as Harry brought them down, filling her pussy without a warning. “I’m going to-“
Harry set a quick pace, her thumb circling her clit as she curled her fingers inside of Louis’ throbbing pussy, making her eyes roll to the back of her head. “Come for me, baby, remind me how pretty it makes you look.”
Louis’ fingers found their way into Harry’s hair, gripping tightly as her vision blacked out. She could vaguely hear Harry guide her through it, telling her she’s proud of her.
She rode her orgasm off on Harry’s fingers, still managing to whine softly as the digits slipped out of her. Harry kissed her head, repeating how well she had done.
After a moment of silence, Louis found her voice again, her lips curving into a small smile. “Looks like breakfast’s going to have to wait a little longer,” she murmured.
Harry let out an affectionate laugh, making Louis’ chest flutter. “Fine by me,” she said, brushing her nose against Louis’. “I’ve got everything I need right here anyway.”
❀•°❀°•❀
A couple of days later, Harry stepped out of her new apartment, pulling her coat tighter around herself as the cool morning air brushed against her skin. The pavement still glistened from last night's rain, the scent still lingering in the air as she locked the door behind her.
Louis was working today, which left Harry with a lot of free time. She figured it was a good time to bring her camera out for a walk, maybe capture a few shots to freshen up her website.
Her first few shots were at an old brick wall down her street, ivy climbing in disorganised patterns. She crouched to frame the picture, adjusting her focus when a sudden movement at the corner of her eye made her lower the camera.
A small kitten with ginger stripes and big, curious eyes darted between her legs before shooting off after a loose leaf rolling across the pavement.
Harry followed, quietly tracking the kitten with her lens.
She continued on her route, past the shops and through the park, ready to photograph colourful petals and green paths. But as she walked through the park, the same kitten appeared again.
Harry knelt down, camera forgotten around her neck, as she looked at the animal. “Hey there,” she whispered. The kitten startled, ducking behind a bin before reappearing.
The day continued like that. Harry turned corners to find anything photo-worthy, but the kitten found her too, always disappearing before Harry could blink.
Finally, after the third appearance near a fountain statue, she bent and picked up the kitten, gently cradling its almost weightless form. Warm and trembling, it seemed neither feral nor entirely wild.
Harry glanced around, “Do you want to come home with me?” she asked softly. The kitten blinked at her, purring quietly.
She took the kitten’s soft mewl as an agreement, a soft little sound that nudged at her heart. Realising it was nearly lunchtime, Harry figured that she could make a detour to the bakery. They had only seen each other yesterday, but somehow the time between then and now already felt too long.
As she crossed the street towards the bakery, Harry tucked the kitten against her chest, shielding it from the slight wind that had picked up. The little thing didn’t protest, just nestled further into her coat, its tiny body fitting perfectly in the crook of her arm.
Once she reached the familiar bakery, the scent of fresh bread and something sweet met her before she even opened the door.
She nudged it open with her elbow and stepped inside, the warmth from the ovens immediately soaking into her cold cheeks.
Louis looked up from behind the counter at the sound of the bell. Her face lit up instantly, until her eyes dropped to Harry’s arms. “Is that a cat?” she asked, her voice somewhere between amused and alarmed.
Harry didn’t bother hiding the smile stretching across her face. “I’m pretty sure it is. But she’s very small,” Harry said playfully.
Rounding the counter quickly, Louis wiped her hands on her apron as she walked over. “Harry…” she trailed off, leaning in to peer at the kitten, who was blinking sleepily, “where did you find her?”
“She sort of found me, actually,” Harry said, rocking on the heels of her sneakers. “She kept showing up wherever I went this morning. I figured she might need help.”
Louis raised an eyebrow, arms crossed, but her expression soft. “Harry, you can’t just pick up stray animals off the street and decide they’re yours.”
“Well, I haven’t decided yet,” Harry defended lightly, brushing a finger over the kitten's head. “I’m just… evaluating the situation.”
“What if she already has a home? Someone could be looking for her right now,” Louis gave her a pointed look.
Harry’s eyebrows pulled together into a thoughtful frown, glancing down at the kitten again. “She doesn’t have a collar. She feels really light too, like she hasn’t eaten properly in a while.” Her voice lowered just a little, “I think she’s on her own.”
Louis sighed, but she couldn’t hide the tug of sympathy in her chest. “Alright, we’ll go to the vet, okay? Just to be sure.”
“Really?” Harry asked with a bright smile.
“Yes, let me just grab my coat,” Louis smiled reluctantly.
The vet’s office wasn’t far, a cozy clinic a few blocks over. The walk was short, but Harry kept stealing glances down at the kitten nestled in her arms the whole way.
Louis walked beside her, one hand casually brushing against Harry’s free one every now and then. Like a reminder that she was there, even for this.
Inside the clinic, the receptionist greeted them kindly, cooing at the sight of the kitten before calling a nurse over to take them into a small examination room.
“Alright,” the vet said as she came in. “Let’s see who we’ve got here.”
Harry gently placed the kitten on the table. It didn’t protest, only looked up at the vet with wide eyes.
“Well, she’s definitely a girl,” she said after a quick examination. “No microchip, and judging by her weight, she’s probably been on her own for a little while.”
“So she’s a stray?” Harry’s eyes flickered to Louis.
“Looks like it,” the vet nodded. “But otherwise, she seems healthy. A bit underweight but nothing that won’t improve with proper food and care.”
Harry exhaled, relief visibly loosening her shoulders. She reached forward to stroke the kitten’s back. “I want to keep her.”
Louis blinked, “You do?”
“I think she picked me. It’d be rude not to return the favour,” Harry nodded without hesitation.
Louis laughed softly, shaking her head in that way she always did when Harry said something that was both ridiculous and sweet. “Looks like you’ll have to name her.”
Harry grinned, looking back down at the tiny kitten. “I was thinking about Suzy.”
“Suzy?” Louis tilted her head.
“She looks like a Suzy,” Harry said simply, then leaned down to whisper to the kitten, “Do you like it, little one?”
Suzy purred softly as if she were agreeing.
With Suzy tucked securely in her arms and a small bag of vet paperwork swinging at her side, Harry walked beside Louis as they made their way back to the bakery. The afternoon sun peeked through the clouds, casting a soft glow over the street. Suzy purred contentedly, already dozing off as they walked.
Louis glanced sideways, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “She really doesn’t want to leave you alone now.”
Harry hummed in agreement, “She’s already got separation anxiety. I can’t blame her.”
Just then, her phone buzzed in her coat pocket. She shifted Suzy gently into her other arm and pulled it out. Her brows furrowed slightly when she didn’t recognise the number.
“Who is it?” Louis asked, noticing the change in her expression.
“I’m not sure,” Harry gave a small smile, “I’ll be quick.”
She stepped a few paces behind, lifting the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Harry, hi. It’s Martha, from NordPhoto. I hope that I’m not catching you at a bad time,” the woman said. “We have a new project coming up in Iceland, and I thought of you immediately.”
Harry blinked, eyes fixed on the back of Louis’ head as she walked ahead. “Wow, that’s…thank you.”
“No pressure, of course,” Martha said. “But if you’re interested, I can summarise everything by email. We’d need to know by the end of the month, flights and accommodation would be covered, of course.”
Harry nodded slowly, even though no one was there to see it. “I appreciate the offer. It’s a great opportunity.”
“You don’t sound too sure.”
“I mean,” Harry glanced down at Suzy, then up at Louis again. “I just have a few things to consider.”
“Of course,” Martha said with understanding. “Just get back to me once you know, okay?”
“I will,” Harry promised, then ended the call. She caught up with Louis a moment later, slipping her phone back into her pocket and reaching for Louis’ hand instead.
“All good?” Louis asked curiously.
Harry smiled and nodded, squeezing her hand softly. “Yes, just work stuff. Nothing urgent.”
But Harry’s thoughts didn’t settle as easily. A few months ago, she wouldn’t have blinked an eye at an offer like this, she would’ve packed a bag before the call even ended. But now, as she looked at Louis, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear and
smiling up at her, something bloomed inside her chest.
Every day spent closer to Louis, Harry was starting to believe that maybe she didn’t need the next big thing waiting across an ocean. Maybe everything she needed was already right here.
❀•°❀°•❀
“I’ve been thinking,” Louis said on a sunny afternoon, just as she was having a catch-up with Grace and Pauline. “This place is my entire life, but I feel like it’s nearly bursting at its seams.”
“The line is out the door most mornings, and I can’t keep on juggling everything the way I have been, so,” she met their curious eyes. “I want to look into opening a second location.”
Grace’s pastry paused halfway to her mouth. Pauline lowered her teacup, eyebrows instantly rising.
“A second bakery?” Grace echoed, her tone light. “Lou, I think that’s a great idea. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”
Pauline nodded in agreement. “You’ve built such a strong reputation already. People come from all over for your cinnamon buns. I’d say it’s the logical next step, just be strategic about real estate and staffing.”
Louis let out a quiet breath, her heart fluttering with a mix of nerves and anticipation. “Good,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Because I might’ve already booked a few viewings for later today. Just to see what’s out there.”
“Do you want some company?” Grace offered, already reaching for her phone. “I can probably shuffle my afternoon shift around if you need an extra set of eyes.”
“Thank you, but I was actually going to-“ Louis started, but the bell above the door chimed softly, cutting her off. She glanced up, a smile spreading across her face, “-ask Harry,” she finished.
“Gossiping about me?” Harry teased as she walked over, her voice laced with affection. She bent down, pressing a soft kiss to Louis’ temple. “Hey, Lou,” she mumbled.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Louis shot back with a grin, letting her head fall to the side to rest against Harry’s shoulder.
“Alright, lovebirds,” Grace said with a low whistle, flashing them a playful, toothy grin. “We’re heading out. Keep us updated, yes?” She leaned in to press a quick, affectionate kiss to Louis’ cheek before turning to go together with Pauline.
“Updated about what?” Harry asked, her eyebrows lifting slightly as she glanced down at Louis.
Louis turned to face Harry fully, her eyes searching. “Please tell me you don’t have plans for the rest of the day,” she said, hope threading through her voice.
“I don’t have plans for the rest of the day.”
“Perfect,” Louis said with a smile, her expression brightening. “I’ve been thinking about opening a second bakery,” she admitted, catching the flicker of surprise in Harry’s eyes. “I love this place, but it’s starting to feel too small for the crowd we’re pulling in.”
“You know I’ll always support whatever you decide, right?” Harry said softly, cupping Louis’ face in her hands.
“I know,” Louis said with a soft smile, puckering her lips for a kiss that Harry gave her without hesitation. “I was actually hoping you’d come with me to a few viewings.”
“I’d love to,” Harry replied, just as the bell above the door chimed once more. Sacha stepped inside, a warm smile lighting up her face.
“Hi, Sacha,” Louis said, slipping off her apron. “She’s here to take over my shift,” she glanced back at Harry with a smile.
After Louis gave Sacha a quick rundown of the morning, explaining it had been calmer than the past few days but still steady, she and Harry stepped out together.
Their hands slipped into each other naturally as they walked towards the first viewing, fingers intertwining and swinging softly with every step.
The first viewing took place in a narrow but tall early-century building just a short walk from Simply Sweet. Its charm was undeniable, and floral tiles covered the walls in delicate patterns, showing the building’s historic character. Light filtered through tall windows, casting gentle shadows across the worn wooden floors. Upstairs, a spacious loft stretched out, its open layout offering plenty of possibilities.
The real estate agent let them through the space, pointing out key features and sharing information about the building’s history. After a brief but informative walkthrough, he stepped back with a smile and left them to explore the place on their own.
“What do you think?” Harry asked softly, standing near the entrance, their eyes taking in the full view of the space’s front.
“It definitely has potential,” Louis said, pursing her lips in thought. “But something about it doesn’t feel…quite right.”
“I mean,” she continued, slipping her hand into Harry’s and gently leading her deeper into the space, “there’s no kitchen yet, so we’d have to build that. And the rest of it just doesn’t feel right.”
Harry couldn’t help but smile at the way Louis said we instead of I so effortlessly, like it had always been that way. It was a small thing, but it settled warmly in her chest.
The second building they viewed was noticeably smaller than the first, tucked between a corner and just down the street from the community center. The location was ideal, but the space itself felt uninspired. Its plain white walls and fluorescent lighting gave it a sterile feel, and there were no charming details or quirks to work with.
Louis walked through it slowly, taking it all in, but her expression made it clear. It lacked the warmth and character she was looking for. It might feel functional, but not something that could be hers.
A gentle pout tugged at Louis’ lips as they arrived at the third and final viewing of the day. Her hopes had been high all along, but so far nothing had quite measured up to her expectations.
The moment Louis stepped inside the building, something shifted in her chest. A warmth blooming within her that she couldn’t quite grasp. It wasn’t just the way the pastel pink walls gave the room a welcoming glow, or how the light filtered gently through the curtains. It was the feeling, the sense of possibility. In the back, the kitchen stood intact and functional, a rare find that made her pulse quicken with excitement.
She turned towards Harry, only to find her already watching with a knowing smile. “It’s admirable how your face changes when you feel good about something.”
“I really do feel good about this one,” Louis murmured, her voice soft as she wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist.
“That’s what matters most,” Harry whispered into her hair.
They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other and in the silence that had settled softly around them. The hum of the city outside felt distant, muffled by the heavy walls and high ceilings that surrounded them.
Louis pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at Harry. “Would you help me bring it to life?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper but steady.
Harry’s eyes softened, her hands resting gently on Louis’ back. “Of course I will. You don’t even have to ask.”
“I know. I just wanted to hear you say it,” Louis smiled, letting it reach her eyes.
They wandered through the space hand in hand after that, exploring the corners as if they were already theirs. Louis paused near the front window, running her fingers over the edge of the frame. “I can already see the counter here,” she said, more to herself than anything else. “A big display, fresh pastries every morning.”
Harry leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed, watching her with quiet admiration. “And maybe here could be a little corner for people to sit? People coming in for a croissant and ending up staying for hours.”
Louis turned, “much like Simply Sweet,” she said with a smile of approval.
It was in moments like these where Louis felt it again. That gentle tug in her chest, the one she’d been growing ever since Harry had come back. Moments like this, simple and easy to anyone else, were the ones that hit her the hardest.
She was so thankful that Harry came back.
Louis felt it, quietly but unmistakably. That subtle shift, like gravity pulling just a little stronger than before. She was falling quickly for Harry.
And for the first time in a long while, it didn’t scare her. It felt like coming home.
❀•°❀°•❀
The afternoon sun cast golden beams across the pavement as Louis reached Harry’s apartment building. She paused as she reached the entrance, feeling the cold breeze against her skin.
She hadn’t called Harry before going over. It felt too big, too important to announce over the phone. She wanted to see Harry’s face when she told her the news.
She pressed the buzzer with her fingertips, the metal cold beneath them. She rocked back on her heels, breath quickening with anticipation.
“Hello?” Harry’s voice sounded through the speaker, soft and familiar.
“It’s me,” Louis said, her voice quiet and wavering with nerves. “Can I come up?”
“Of course,” came the quick reply, followed by the click of an unlocked door. Louis climbed the stairs to see Harry waiting for her at the top. She looked as though she had just woken up, dressed in an oversized sweater and shorts.
“Hey, Lou,” Harry greeted as Louis came into view. She stepped to the side, eyes scanning Louis’ face. “Are you okay?”
“I…” Louis hesitated, breath catching slightly in her throat. Her hands were tucked into the pockets of her coat, knuckles red from the cold. “I wanted to tell you in person.”
Harry tilted her head just a little, the corners of her mouth curving up in encouragement. “Tell me what?”
“The offer went through,” Louis said, her voice breaking into a quiet smile, “the building is mine, Harry.”
Harry blinked, as if the words needed a moment to fully land. Then her eyes widened, something bright and proud shimmering beneath them. “You got it?” she asked, the words barely above a whisper.
Louis nodded, a breathless laugh leaving her, “I did. It’s official, as of this morning.”
Harry crossed the space between them in a second, arms wrapping tightly around her. Louis let out a surprised sound, laughter escaping her as her body softened into Harry’s hold. All the nerves, all the restless pacing, and overthinking she had carried for over a week dissolved under the strength of that embrace.
“I’m so happy for you,” Harry murmured, her voice muffled in Louis’ hair. “You did it, Lou. I knew you would.”
They stood like that for a moment, swaying ever so slightly, the weight of the moment settling gently around them. When Harry finally pulled back, her hands lingered on Louis’ arms, a thumb brushing against the material of her coat.
“You’re amazing,” she added, her voice light as she smiled. “Do you want to go out? To celebrate? I think this officially calls for dinner and a drink, or two.”
Louis smiled, breath catching in her throat again for an entirely different reason, “I’d love that.”
Harry changed quickly while Louis waited by the door, Suzy weaving curiously between her ankles. A few minutes later, they stepped out into the cool air, the city sounding gently around them.
The walk was short, hands brushing together before naturally tangling as they walked down the street. They ended up in a quiet restaurant tucked between a florist and an antique shop. It was small, mostly candlelit, and cosy.
They sat by the window, glasses clinking slowly as Harry smiled at her. “I mean what I said,” she said after they ordered. “I’m proud of you. Not just for today, but for everything you’ve done. This whole thing started as a dream, and you made it real.”
Louis flushed, her hand resting near Harry’s on the table. “I had help. Grace and Pauline-“
“Sure,” Harry interrupted gently, her smile widening, “but they’re not the ones who wake up before dawn to prep dough with no one around to help. You built something so beautiful.”
Louis ducked her head, the praise tugging at her chest. Under the table, her foot nudged against Harry’s in a small gesture. “Thank you,” she said softly, “that really means a lot.”
For a moment, the conversation seemed to go quiet as their food arrived on steaming plates. They picked at their meals, savouring more than just the flavours, until Louis looked up, something popping into her mind.
“Hey,” she said suddenly, sitting up a little straighter. “I’ve been meaning to ask…when we went out with Mia, I saw her phone background. That little boy, who is that?”
Harry blinked, then laughed a little under her breath. “She completely forgot and then asked me to tell you, which I forgot too. I was going to tell you.”
Louis raised her eyebrows, “Tell me what?”
Harry leaned back, shaking her head like she was only now realising how odd it must’ve sounded. “That’s Arthur, her son.”
“Mia has a son?” Louis’ mouth parted slightly.
“Yes,” Harry nodded, lifting her glass. “She had him two years ago. I don’t know how she forgot to mention it the night we all went out, she talks about him all the time.”
“I had no idea,” Louis said, her voice softening. She leaned in, elbows resting on the table. “She always used to talk about wanting children someday, but I didn’t realise someday had already come.”
Harry unlocked her phone, scrolling a little before turning the screen towards Louis. “This is a photo that she sent me this morning,” she smiled.
The picture showed a small boy with wild curls, his cheeks flushed pink, paint on his chin, and a half-eaten apple in one hand. His eyes were bright, wide, curious, and unmistakably familiar.
Louis smiled instantly, “he’s beautiful. He looks like Mia.”
“I know,” Harry said, a warmth spreading through her voice. “He’s such a little chaos machine, always climbing things and talking to his toys. But then he’ll just crawl into your lap and fall asleep like it’s nothing.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” Louis teased gently, giving Harry a meaningful look.
Harry rolled her eyes in return, “I don’t climb things.”
“Do I have to remind you about all the times you planted your body on top of mine just because you missed me?” Louis pointed out.
There was something lovely about it, talking without the weight of work or the tug of heavy feelings. Just an easy, familiar conversation. Laughter that came naturally, like it always had, an easy feeling that they had never quite lost.
“I can’t believe she didn’t say anything,” Louis said again, a twinkle in her eyes. “I’m sure that you’re a great aunt.”
Harry tilted her head thoughtfully, “I try my best. He calls me “Ha-Ha.” Which…I’m choosing to believe it is endearing.”
“It’s very you,” Louis agreed, her lips quirking with affection. She swirled her straw gently through her drink, the ice clinking against the glass.
Harry watched her for a moment, the smile still playing on her lips. “Can I ask you something else?” she said after a pause, her voice soft, almost tentative. “Pauline…she seems really important to you.”
Louis glanced up, slightly surprised but not caught off guard. Her expression softened, something fond behind her eyes. “She is,” she said simply, then leaned back a little, folding her hands in her lap. “She was actually my first ever customer.”
“I had barely gotten the sign out, my hands were still covered in flour, and she came in. Bold as anything, putting in an order,” she continued.
Harry smiled, chin in her hand.
“I was so nervous,” Louis went on. “She sat at the window and read the newspaper while she ate. She didn’t say much, just nodded at me when she left. But then she came back the next day. It became a routine, every morning just as I unlocked the door.”
Harry’s eyebrows lifted, the picture slowly forming in her mind. “And that’s how it started?”
Louis nodded, her eyes warm. “Over time, she started staying longer. Asking questions. Offering unsolicited advice,” she laughed, shaking her head. “But not in a pushy way, just little things. Like reminding me to eat something or take a break.”
“She sounds like she’s really looked after you,” Harry said quietly.
“She did,” Louis replied, her voice just a little softer. “Still does, really. Pauline’s become something close to family.”
Harry’s expression turned soft, “That makes sense,” she said. “The way you talk about her and what she’s done for you. I kept on wondering.”
Louis smiled again, smaller this time, but it stayed longer. “She means a lot to me. Honestly, I’m not sure the bakery would’ve made it through that first year without her,” she laughed quietly.
Harry reached across the table then, her fingers brushing gently over Louis’ knuckles, “it’s nice,” she murmured. “Knowing you had someone like that, someone in your corner.”
“I think we all need someone like that,” Louis said, turning her hand over to link their fingers together.
Their hands rested there in the middle of the table, warm and steady. The conversation drifted on, a mix between everything they had shared and the ones they didn’t need to say at all.
Louis hummed after a moment, something playful flickering at the corner of her mouth. “You know,” she said, voice playful but steady. “I seem to recall someone once saying that I should stay over…when she had a place of her own.”
Harry raised her eyebrows teasingly, putting down her glass, “Did I now?”
“I believe you said something along the lines of ‘I would ask you to spend the night, but I don’t have my own place yet so…’”
Harry leaned forward, a playful glint in her eyes as she looked Louis deeply into her eyes, “That does sound like me,” she said. “So what do you say?”
Louis smiled, her fingers tightening around Harry’s. “I say…I’ve been waiting for you to ask me again.”
Harry brought Louis’ hand to her lips, pressing a slow kiss to her knuckles before letting them linger there for a moment. She looked up, her eyes warm with something tender and just a little bit teasing.
“Louis,” she said quietly. “Would you do me the honour of staying over tonight?”
“I think,” Louis replied with a light tone, “that I would very much like that.”
❀•°❀°•❀
It only took a moment after they stepped inside for Louis to find herself backed gently against the wall, the quiet click of the apartment door still echoing behind them. She barely had time to take her coat off before Harry was there, moving towards her with a certainty that made her breath catch.
There was no rush in it, only a kind of urgency. A closeness that had been building between them all evening.
Harry’s hands settled at Louis’ waist, thumbs brushing the fabric of her dress. She leaned in slowly, her forehead pressing lightly against Louis’ for a moment. One of her hands slid lower, riling the material of her dress up to expose the skin of her thighs.
“You look so good,” Harry murmured, just loud enough to be heard.
Louis smiled, heart thudding in her chest. “So do you.”
Harry pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. Then, with an urgency that made Louis feel entirely seen, she leaned in and kissed her deep but slowly.
The kiss deepened, like neither of them was in a hurry, like they had all the time in the world.
Louis let her head tilt, her back pressing more firmly against the wall, the cool surface anchoring her in contrast to the warmth of Harry’s body in front of her. Her own hands had curled into the hem of Harry’s shirt, knuckles brushing the skin just beneath it.
“You always do that,” Louis whispered in between kisses, her breath soft against Harry’s lips.
“Do what?” Harry asked, pulling back just enough to look at her.
“Make everything slow down,” Louis replied softly, “like I can breathe properly whenever I am near you.”
Harry leaned in again, resting her forehead against Louis’ as she caught her breath. “I don’t know how to be around you and not feel everything,” she admitted.
Louis brought a hand up to Harry’s jaw, thumb brushing the edge of her cheekbone. “Then don’t try,” she said gently, “feel everything.”
She kissed her again, more determined this time, as if not to question anything but giving her an answer. She took her time, every movement deliberate.
When Harry finally pulled back, her hands still on Louis’ body, she gave a small smile. “Come on,” she said softly.
Louis hooked her legs loosely around Harry’s waist, the motion almost instinctive. Harry’s hands slid under the backs of her thighs to keep her steady, and their mouths never quite parted as they slowly made their way down the short hallway.
There was no rush in the way that Harry guided her forward, each step quiet against the floorboards.
When they reached the bedroom, Harry paused in the doorway, breath brushing against Louis’ cheek. Louis smiled softly, her fingers settling into Harry’s curls.
Then Harry bent gently, lowering her with care, letting her legs slip down and her feet touch the floor as she guided Louis to sit.
Louis let herself sink onto the edge of the bed, knees brushing Harry’s, her hands still resting against her hips.
Harry knelt in front of her without a word, her fingers brushing up Louis’ calves with reverence, smoothing over the bare skin. She rested her hands on Louis’ knees, eyes lifting to meet hers like she was waiting for something. Just a sign that Louis was still willing.
She looked at her for a long moment before reaching out to thread her fingers through the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck. “You don’t have to be so careful,” she whispered.
Harry’s smile was soft, almost teasing ,but there was something warm behind it too. “I know,” she murmured.
She leaned in, brushing her lips gently against the inside of Louis’ thigh, a touch more tender than anything else. Louis shivered under it, her breath catching just slightly at the contact.
Then Harry looked up at her, her hands lingering where they rested, thumbs drawing light circles against the denim at her knees. “I’ll be right back,” she promised.
She stood slowly, fingers trailing up the length of Louis’ thigh as she rose. Leaving Louis behind with a promising look.
As Harry left the room, Louis let herself exhale a slow breath that quieted the tingly feeling beneath her skin. The bedroom was calm, the low lights brushing against painted walls, casting a gentle shadow.
Louis stepped away from the bed, letting her fingertips skim across the edge of a chair, the smooth surface comfortable underneath her skin. Her gaze flickered to a framed photo near a lamp, one of Harry and Mia.
She smiled at it before turning back towards the bed. Sinking onto the edge of the mattress, Louis let her fingers trail over the soft fabric of the sheets. She traced soft patterns, slow and absentmindedly, as an idea slowly formed in her head.
Standing once more, Louis turned to face the bed. She let her hand drift to the zipper at the back of her dress, fingers brushing lightly against the fabric before she began to tug it down slowly.
The soft sound of the zipper filled the space, quiet but certain, as she shifted just slightly to ease the fabric off her shoulders. The dress slipped down without resistance, gliding over her skin and pooling at her feet.
Just then, a low, unfiltered groan came from behind her. Louis startled slightly, twisting around on instinct. Her eyes met Harry’s instantly, who had just stepped back into the room, a glass of water in one hand and an expression on her face that made her breath catch.
“Fuck…” Harry muttered, eyes slowly dragging down her body. Her fingers tightened around the glass unconsciously, knuckles going white as she stood there.
Her eyes dropped before she could stop herself, catching the familiar shade of red. Harry blinked, a quiet breath catching in her throat.
“Are those…” she started, voice lower than intended, “the ones I think they are?”
Louis turned slightly, just enough to let a teasing smile tug at her lips. “You mean the ones that you got me for our one-year anniversary?” she asked innocently.
Harry set the glass down carefully, as if needing both of her hands to be free. “You kept them,” she said quietly.
“I didn’t really want to forget that night,” Louis tilted her head, stepping closer.
“You really don’t fight fair, Lou.”
“I’m not trying to fight,” Louis murmured, brushing her fingers against Harry’s arm. “Just trying to remind you how much I missed this.”
At that, whatever restraint Harry had been holding on to slipped right through her fingers. She stepped in without hesitation, both hands lifting to cradle Louis’ face.
And then her lips were on hers. No more teasing, no more space between them. Louis melted into it, her hands finding Harry’s curls in an instant.
The force of the kiss had Louis taking a few steps backwards, her balance guided by Harry’s touch. Her calves bumped the edge of the bed, and without breaking the kiss, she let herself fall back onto the mattress, a soft laugh caught in her throat as she pulled Harry down with her.
Harry followed easily, one knee bracing beside Louis’ hip, her hand still gently cupping her cheek as they settled into the bed.
Louis’ lips parted instinctively as Harry tilted her head, deepening the kiss as their tongues met in a gentle way. One of Harry’s hands remained on Louis’ cheek, while the other slipped lower, caressing her breasts.
After a moment of lying there, their breaths turned into a synchronised rhythm. Their hands were all over each other, exploring and setting a pace. The soft feeling of fingers brushing against skin, the way Harry’s nose nudged Louis’ cheek, and the way Louis’ breath hitched as Harry’s hand dipped low.
She pulled back slightly, her hand resting on Harry’s cheek. Louis searched her face, breath catching as she saw the way Harry’s eyes darkened with desire.
“What is it, baby?” Harry whispered, her hand resting on Louis’ waist.
Louis licked her lips. She knew that Harry would comply with anything she asked for. And yet, some nerves twisted inside of her for a moment as she softly said, “I want you to fuck me.”
Harry’s green eyes darkened even further instantly, her gaze locking with Louis’ in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. She moved without a word, scrambling off the bed with an urgency that made Louis’ breath catch, as if they had no seconds to waste.
She propped herself up on her elbows, the soft mattress dipping beneath her as she watched Harry undress at the foot of the bed. She wanted to get up and reach out, but she also liked this part of building anticipation.
Her gaze stayed fixed on Harry, watching with anticipation as she crouched down to her drawer. Her heart fluttered as she watched her put on the harness, the way she had already watched her do this many times before.
Louis was off the bed before Harry had time to turn around, sinking to her knees effortlessly. The silicone cock was bigger than she remembered it to be, but her eyes filled with lust as she took a hold of it.
“Fuck, baby,” Harry whispered as she looked down at her.
Without saying another word, she reached up and slipped the hair tie from her own hair, letting her curls fall loose around her shoulders. Then, she leaned down slightly and gathered Louis’ hair, pulling it back into a loose ponytail.
Louis took it as a sign to go on, her heart beating a little faster as she took the cock into her mouth, eyes staying focused on Harry’s.
Harry looked back at her with a lustful look in her eyes, tracing soft circles over her cheeks as she softly choked around the intrusion in her throat. “You look so pretty from here.”
Her eyes were glassy now, eager to take in more but probably too much compared to what she was actually capable of as she slowly let the cock slip out of her mouth. She reached back a hand, unclipping her bra and letting it fall to the ground, her tits springing free as Harry hoisted her up.
“Harry,” Louis giggled helplessly as she got thrown onto the bed again. She linked her arms behind Harry’s neck, breathing against her ear. “What if I wasn’t done yet?”
“Don’t care,” Harry groaned in return, positioning herself in between Louis’ legs. She stared at the panties for a moment, a darker patch slowly forming on the material. “I can’t believe you kept these.”
“Haven’t worn them since,” Louis admitted, a deep blush spreading across her cheeks and down to her chest.
Harry let out a grunt, dipping her head down to softly nibble at Louis’ tummy with her teeth, letting them drag gently against her skin before she took the waistband of the panties between them. She looked up at Louis, a small smirk on her face as she pulled the material down with a little help from the girl.
“Harry,” Louis whined, feeling entirely impatient as she looked at her through heavy-lidded eyes.
She decided not to waste any more time, knowing both of them were extremely on edge already. She leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on Louis’ inner thigh before focusing on her pussy.
Harry let her tongue dart out, licking a fat stripe from Louis’ clit down to her entrance, where wetness had started to pool by now. Louis tossed her head back against the pillow, body completely overtaken by pleasure.
“Please,” she moaned as Harry sucked her clit into her mouth. She closed her legs instinctively, only for Harry to push them back open with a hand.
Lifting a hand, Harry let a finger graze her folds as her tongue worked against her clit. Louis’ body shuddered with pleasure, making Harry smile against her pussy smugly. “Still so responsive,” she whispered as she momentarily pulled back.
“Still tastes so amazing too,” Harry said as she inserted one of her fingers into Louis’ pussy. Her moments were slow and deliberate, savouring the moment now that she had Louis like this again.
Harry took her time, and with every passing moment, Louis became more desperate than she already was. She knew that she needed more, though, and knew that Harry was more than willing to give it to her. She put a hand into her curls, softly pulling her head back to look into her eyes.
She didn’t say anything, just pulled Harry up from in between her thighs and pulled her into a deep and messy kiss. Louis could taste herself on her tongue, moaning softly as it mixed together with Harry’s sweetness.
“I was enjoying being down there,” Harry said softly in between kisses, her hand still resting in between Louis’ thighs as she traced soft patterns.
Louis smiled against her lips, somehow managing to flip them over, “Too bad,” she whispered.
Harry let it happen, mostly. She crossed her arms behind her head, watching as Louis sat down on her thighs, planting her hands flat on her toned stomach. “Are you going to ride me, baby?” she asked slyly.
“Hmm,” Louis nodded in confirmation, already reaching her hand out to take a hold of the silicone cock.
She leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on the tip just for good measure and because she knows it drives Harry mad. She was pleased to see that Harry bit her lower lip, throwing her head back as she shook it slightly.
“You drive me absolutely crazy.”
“Good,” Louis winked, positioning herself so she hovered over the cock, letting it slip between her folds teasingly.
Harry offered her hand to Louis as she slowly sank down, letting their eyes meet as both sets darkened with pleasure. “Easy, baby,” Harry reminded her gently as Louis slowly let herself be filled up, soft whines leaving her lips.
Once Louis felt comfortable enough, she lifted her hips before slowly sinking down again. The air got punched out of her chest, hitching in her throat as she threw her head back. “You feel so good.”
Each touch stretched between them, their bodies moving in sync with a rhythm that felt like second nature. Harry reached out, her hand finding Louis’ tits and cupping them lightly.
Louis met her eyes, her hips lifting a little quicker as she felt herself getting more worked up. Her body arched into Harry’s, the response to her touch immediate.
“You’re taking me so good,” Harry praised, planting her feet flat against the mattress to help Louis when her pace slightly started to falter.
She nodded, helpless whines falling from her lips as her body shook from Harry’s force. “Oh god,” she moaned out, feeling herself rapidly get closer.
“You’re a dream, baby,” Harry whispered, leaning forward to kiss Louis’ chest and tits. She closed her mouth over one of the buds, gently biting down on it.
That was all it took for Louis to lose all control, letting her mouth fall open on a broken moan and her eyes roll back in her head. “Harry,” she whimpered as she rode out her orgasm, feeling the way Harry’s body shook lightly against hers.
“Did you…?” she blinked after a moment, body slumped against Harry’s.
Harry nodded, a fond smile on her face. “I didn’t need much when you looked like that,” she whispered against Louis’ skin.
They stayed wrapped in the silence that followed, breaths slowing as Louis slowly lifted herself off of the fake cock. She rested her head against Harry’s chest, their fingers loosely intertwined. There was nothing left to say, because they had already shown each other everything.
❀•°❀°•❀
A soft spill of morning light filtered through the curtains, stretching across the bed in bright stripes. Louis stirred slowly, eyes blinking open to be met with the silence in the room. Beside her, Harry still slept soundly, her breath calm and even, one hand curled loosely near her face.
Louis stayed there for a moment, the warmth of the sheets clinging to her skin. A familiar craving bubbled gently in her chest, a slow thought that turned into something sweet. The idea of Harry waking up to the smell of cookies, sleep still heavy in her eyes, was enough for Louis to leave the comfort of the bed.
She slipped out carefully, her feet touching the wooden floor as she padded softly across the room, casting one last glance at Harry before disappearing into the hallway.
Suzy was draped across the couch, tiny body stretched out in a patch of sunlight, her purring low and steady. Louis stepped into the room and smiled, her voice soft, “Good morning, sweet girl.”
The kitten lifted her head, blinking slowly before leaning in to press a rough little lick against Louis’ hand, gentle but deliberate. It felt like a quiet greeting, her own way of saying good morning in return.
Louis settled onto the edge of the couch, fingers moving behind Suzy’s ear in slow, careful strokes. “We’ll have to set up a playdate with Mabel soon,” she murmured, watching the kitten lean into her touch.
Suzy purred louder, a sound of approval, like she already understood exactly who Mabel was and couldn’t wait to meet her.
After her moment with Suzy, Louis made her way into the kitchen, the stillness of the morning wrapping around her like something warm. She flicked on the oven, the soft hum filling the space as she reached for a mixing bowl and baking tray.
Being a baker had its advantages. Years of practice and instinct guided her, each ingredient added with a kind of ease that only came from doing something over and over.
She moved through Harry’s kitchen like she always belonged there, her steps familiar, her movements confident. She stirred the dry ingredients gently, then cracked an egg into the bowl, the shell splitting easily in her hands.
Just as Louis was folding the dough together, fingers working through the mixture with precision, she felt two arms wrap around her from behind.
Harry pulled her close, chin resting against her shoulder, voice still rough with sleep. “You left me,” she murmured, nose brushing gently against Louis’ neck.
Louis let out a soft hum, the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile. “Well, you snore,” she teased, her tone light as she leaned back slightly into the embrace.
Harry gasped dramatically, eyes locking onto the open bag of flour on the counter. Without hesitation, she dipped her hands into it, coating them, and then gently placed them back on Louis’ hips, fingers wiggling and teasing.
She let out a startled squeal, laughter bursting from her as she twisted in place, trying to squirm away. “Harry!” she shrieked in between giggles, the sound light and infectious. Her cheeks flushed with laughter, eyes bright with mischief.
Quickly, she reached back, grabbing a handful of flour without turning around. With a swift flick, she tossed it over her shoulder, the powder catching in the morning light as it fell down.
“You’re not playing fair!” Harry said, trying to sound firm, though the laughter in her voice gave her away. She finally let Louis turn to face her, their eyes meeting brightly and full of challenge.
Louis blinked up at her innocently, lips twitching as she lifted a flour-dusted hand. She blew out softly across her palm, sending a soft cloud of white dust straight into Harry’s face. “Oopsie,” she said before spinning on her heel and darting away, her laughter echoing through the kitchen.
“Brat,” Harry muttered, smiling despite herself as she chased after her.
It didn’t take much for Harry to close the distance, her long strides easily outpacing Louis’ quick, light steps. But instead of catching up completely, she slowed down just enough to let the distance stretch out, to keep Louis just ahead.
She could’ve caught her, but she didn’t.
They ended up on opposite sides of the couch, breathless and flushed, the space between them filled with something more than just the chase. Louis stood still, eyes locked on Harry’s, blue and bright and full of a daring spark that always got to her.
And Harry felt it, that she might be winning the chase, but losing differntly entirely. A kind of game played in silence, in glances, in everything that neither of them was saying but both felt.
“Are you going to do something?”
Harry stayed still for a moment, patiently watching her. Then, in one smooth motion, she closed the distance, reaching over the back of the couch and catching Louis off guard. She lifted her with ease, gently guiding her down onto the cushions and pinning her there, hands steady but careful.
“Is this what you had in mind?” she asked, smiling down at her, the edge of mischief tugging at her lips.
Louis looked up at her, eyes glinting. “Something like this,” she said, voice soft as she tugged Harry down into a quick, warm kiss. “Not bad at all.”
They stayed there for a while, tangled together, the soft rhythm of their breathing the only sound between them. Wrapped in each other’s arms, neither felt the need to move, the weight of the moment enough.
Louis glanced up at her, her heart fluttering in that same familiar way it always did when she let herself look too long. There was something so easy about it, so meaningful.
“Something on your mind?”
Louis’ eyes flicked to the bit of flour clinging to Harry’s nose before meeting her gaze again. She gave a small shake of her head, a smile just starting to form. “No,” she whispered. “On yours?”
“Actually,” Harry said quietly, her tone shifting just enough to draw Louis’ full attention. She sat up slowly, guiding Louis into her lap with gentle hands, their bodies fitting together easily.
She took a slow breath, grounding herself. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now.”
Louis' expression softened, but her eyes searched Harry’s face, trying to read every emotion. There was a hint of uncertainty in her voice as she asked, “Do I need to start worrying?”
“No,” Harry said quickly, the word rushing out as her eyes widened. She reached for Louis’ hand instinctively, “It’s nothing bad, I promise.”
Louis tilted her head, watching her closely.
“Remember that phone call I got when we were walking back to your bakery from the vet?” Harry asked, her voice a little steadier now.
“The one that wasn’t so important?” Louis nodded slowly.
Harry gave a sheepish smile, “Yes, that one. It was actually from someone at NordPhoto. They’re a company that promotes and markets the northern countries, and they offered me a position for a new project.” She hesitated just a bit before adding, “in Iceland.”
Louis’ eyes lit up immediately, her whole face shifting with excitement as she nearly bounced in Harry’s lap. “Harry, that’s your dream location,” she breathed, her voice laced with joy.
“It is,” Harry said softly, nodding. “It’s everything I’ve wanted. But it would mean moving there, starting over. Finding a new home. And being away from you.”
“I can visit,” Louis said quickly, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I can close the bakeries on weekends. It’s really not that far-“
“You’re not closing the bakeries on weekends,” Harry cut in gently, shaking her head. “They’re your dream, Lou.”
Louis pouted, her gaze locking onto Harry’s with a mix of affection and growing determination. “But I want to visit,” she said softly, the stubbornness in her voice unmistakable. “And I don’t think there’s anything you can do to stop me.”
Harry let out a soft breath, “Louis…you’re not closing the bakeries,” she said, her voice a little firmer now. “Because I already declined their offer.”
“What?” Louis whispered, eyes widening as she searched Harry’s face, waiting for her to admit that it’s some sort of joke. But all she saw was sincerity. “Why would you do that?”
Harry laughed softly under her breath, the sound barely louder than a whisper. She reached for Louis’ other hand, gently folding both of theirs together in her lap. “Remember when Mia said I might’ve already found a place to call home, but just needed someone to tell me it was okay to stay?”
Louis nodded quietly, her eyes steadying on Harry’s.
“After I left three years ago,” Harry went on, “I never really felt at home anywhere. I kept moving, picking up projects, going from place to place. I was chasing distractions because settling down felt pointless. Like something was missing, but I couldn’t figure out what.”
She paused, thumb brushing lightly over Louis’ knuckles.
“When I went to New Zealand, after we saw each other again, I finally realised what had been missing all along,” her eyes met Louis’. “Because suddenly it had a name.”
“Harry…” Louis breathed, her voice barely audible and laced with emotion.
Harry held her gaze, “You are my home,” she said softly, every word as convincing as the other. “I made the mistake of ignoring that feeling once…I’m not doing that again.”
Louis blinked, tears welling in her eyes as she stared back at her. “So you are choosing…” Her voice shook as she left the question hanging.
“I’m choosing us,” Harry said as she gave their hands a soft squeeze.
Their eyes stayed locked, the silence between them full of things left unspoken. Then Harry took a soft breath, the moment making the words slip past her lips, “because I love you,” she said softly.
A tear traced down Louis’ cheek, the feeling of hearing those words sinking in deeper than she had expected them to. Like she’d been waiting to hear them all along without knowing it.
She didn’t answer with words right away. Instead, Louis leaned in, closing the space between them and letting their lips meet in a kiss that said all the words that she couldn’t possibly say.
“I love you,” Louis whispered against Harry’s lips as they slowly parted, their foreheads resting together. “I think I always have.”
Harry let out a gentle laugh, the sound of it light and relieved. “I let myself be scared of the not knowing for so long,” Louis continued, her voice soft but steady. “I was afraid that if I let myself fall too hard, I’d scare you away. But now…” she smiled, eyes shining. “I don’t think that either of us had a choice. We were always going to fall.”
Louis rested her cheek against Harry’s, feeling the steady beat of her heart beneath her fingers as she reached out.
Everything between them felt right, like this was exactly where they were meant to be. A certainty settled over them, wrapping around them like a promise.
❀•°❀°•❀
The morning of the bakery opening started with a promising feeling. Sunlight came through the windows, casting a glow over the countertops and carefully stacked displays of fresh croissants, pastries, and crunchy loaves of sourdough that Louis had baked before anyone was awake.
Neighbours and friends gathered outside the storefront, sipping coffee and snapping photos, their voices buzzing with excitement.
Inside, Louis moved behind the counter, smoothing out her apron for the third time, her fingers twitching nervously. Grace was placing napkins near the coffee machine while Pauline fussed over a last-minute chalkboard sign outside, her handwriting neat as she narrowed her eyes with focus.
Every detail had been thought through. Every surface gleamed. And yet, Louis felt like her heart might beat out of her chest.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Harry said gently, slipping an arm around Louis’ waist, her camera hanging loosely at her side.
Louis glanced up at her, then let her head rest against Harry’s shoulder. “What thing?” she asked, even though she already knew.
“Pulling your eyebrows together like that,” Harry said with a small smile. “You’re overthinking this.”
“Is it that obvious?” Louis asked, letting out a soft, breathy laugh.
Harry grinned and leaned in, her mouth close to Louis’ ear. “You’re glowing, Lou. And so is this place. Everyone’s going to fall in love with this bakery the second they step through the door.”
Louis turned to face her, eyes shining. “I’m really
glad that you’re here this time,” she said softly, then leaned up to press a gentle kiss to Harry’s lips. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you,” Harry whispered back, smiling against her lips before they slowly pulled apart.
Before they could say anything else, a small voice came from next to them. “Loulou?”
Both of them turned to see Arthur, cheeks pink with excitement, his mop of curls bouncing gently as he toddled over. He was clutching a small plastic dinosaur in one hand, a second one tucked protectively under his arm.
“Yes, Arthur?” Louis crouched to his level with a bright smile.
“You want to see my dinos?” he asked seriously, holding up the tiny T. rex like an offering. “This one bites. Rawr.”
Louis gasped dramatically, “A biting one?” she said, voice full of wonder. “That’s so cool, I’ve never seen one up close.”
Arthur nodded, seemingly pleased with her response. “You come see them? Auntie Ha-Ha said I can bring them.”
“I’d be honoured to see your dinosaurs,” Louis said with a warm smile, rising to her feet and extending her hand towards Arthur. “Lead the way.”
Arthur grinned, slipping his hand into hers and leading her over to the small play corner set up near the front window, where a few toys and bean bags had been arranged to keep the little ones occupied.
Harry watched them go, a soft smile playing on her lips as she lifted her camera to capture the moment. The sun caught on Louis’ hair, making it glow as she leaned down to talk to Arthur, her face lit up with a smile that reached all the way to her eyes.
“You know,” Mia said as she walked over to Harry, resting her hands on the counter before leaning back casually. “Watching you two now…it’s like those three years apart never even happened.”
“It’s just bitter to think about how different things could have been,” Harry muttered, her gaze still on Louis. “If we’d just figured it out back then.”
Mia glanced over at her, giving her a pointed look. “Don’t go there,” she said gently but firmly. “You two found your way back to each other, that’s what matters. Hold on to that.”
Harry smiled, a gentle warmth fluttering in her chest. Just thinking about everything that was still ahead of them, the late nights and quiet mornings, the ordinary little moments they’d share, made her heartbeat pick up in speed.
“She’s my future,” Harry said softly. “It’s never been anyone else. Even when we were apart, even when I tried to move on, it was always her. I think some part of me was always hoping that we’d get a second chance.”
Mia made an exaggerated gagging noise, rolling her eyes playfully before her expression softened. “Now, that was disgustingly sweet,” she said with a laugh. “But seriously, I really am happy for you. For both of you.”
She watched Louis with sparkling eyes, her laughter mingling with Arthur’s as they played on the floor, completely lost in their own world. Something about the sight tugged gently at her heart.
Harry couldn’t help but let herself imagine it. One day, having a family of their own. Mornings filled with tiny footsteps walking around, and the kitchen filled with laughter and joy. Louis, still glowing as always, both of them surrounded by something even more theirs.
The official opening happened a little after ten. Harry moved through the crowd with her camera, capturing every wide smile and the laughter. Mia stood on the side with Arthur perched on her hip, both cheering excitedly as the ribbon was stretched across the door. Pauline clapped with exaggerated enthusiasm while Grace pretended to wipe a tear away.
As the crowd joined in for the countdown, Louis stepped forward,and ,with a single snip, officially opened the doors to her second bakery.
For the next few hours, the bakery was alive in a way Louis had only dreamed of. People trying samples of pastries, kids with frosting on their noses, and the coffee machine not getting to rest for more than a couple of seconds.
By noon, Louis was glowing again, but this time from joy instead of nerves. Arthur came up to the counter for a chocolate croissant, cheeks already smudged with powdered sugar. “Loulou,” he said, peeking up at her. “Auntie Ha-Ha said I can have two.”
Harry appeared right behind him with a helpless shrug of her shoulders. “I was blackmailed. He said if I didn’t agree, he’d tell you that I gave him a hot chocolate from the kitchen.”
Louis laughed and handed him a second mini croissant, brushing a hand through his curls gently. “If you want another hot chocolate, you know where to find me,” she winked.
Around 1:30, when the line had finally started to settle and most people had found a table or a spot outside in the sun, Pauline tapped a spoon against her glass and called out, “Speech time!”
Louis froze for half a second before Grace gave her a small push to the center of the room. “You knew this was coming,” she whispered, handing her a folded piece of paper.
She stared at the paper, then folded it again and slipped it into her pocket. “I don’t think I need it,” she said softly, then cleared her throat and turned.
Everyone had gone quiet as Louis started to speak. “Hi,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “I want to start off by thanking you all so much for being here today. I still kind of can’t believe that this is happening.”
A few people chuckled at that. Harry caught her eye from across the room and gave her a small, reassuring nod.
“The past six months since I bought the bakery have been…a lot. More than I expected beforehand. Renovations, permits, equipment delays…days where I wasn’t sure if I could pull this off. But now, we’re here. And it’s not something that I’ve done all by myself.”
She glanced towards the counter, “Grace, Pauline, thank you for being there to show up with pizza at midnight and working tools at 7:00,” she laughed lightly. “I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through any of this without you. Your help is one of the biggest reasons why we’re here today, and I love you both so much.”
Grace blew her a kiss while Pauline gave a proud thumbs-up in return to her words.
Louis’ eyes flicked to Harry. Her voice softened as she spoke, “and Harry…”
She smiled, heart swelling with love as she looked at her. “You have been everything I didn’t even know I needed. You’ve helped paint walls, built shelves, and cleaned flour out of my hair more times than I can count, but more importantly…you’ve believed in me, even when I doubted myself. You’ve been patient and reassuring in times where I needed it the most.”
Louis blinked away the tears forming behind her eyes. “I never thought that I’d have this again,” she said, her voice cracking just a little. “That I’d have you again. You know about this dream of mine like no other, and having you here with me today means more than words could ever describe.”
She took a breath, then added, “I love you, so incredibly much.”
The room exhaled with her, soft claps sounding as Harry walked forward. She cupped Louis’ face in both hands and kissed her, so sure and full of love.
When they pulled apart, Arthur, who was now seated on the floor beside his dinosaurs, looked up and said with complete sincerity, “ew.”
Everyone erupted in laughter, but Louis and Harry stayed wrapped up in each other, completely lost in each other’s eyes. The noise around them faded, just for a moment, and Harry leaned in slightly, her voice barely above the sound of laughter. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, her smile bright as Louis attached their lips once more.
❀•°❀°•❀
Naturally, Grace was the last one to leave the bakery that evening. Louis gave her one last hug and smiled through her exhaustion, waving as she disappeared down the street.
The sky had turned into a deep blue, the glow of the streetlights casting a glow across the empty streets. Louis turned the lock gently and let her hand rest against the door for a moment, breathing in deeply.
Behind her, Harry leaned against the counter, camera still slung over her shoulder. Harry was watching her, a smile on her face as she took in Louis’ features. It was the same girl who would wake her up in the middle of the night to try out new recipes. The same one who used to hide her tired smile behind a coffee mug. And now here she was, opening up her second bakery and achieving what once was only a whispered dream.
“Hey,” Harry said softly, breaking the silence, her voice a little hopeful. “If you’re not too tired…Can I take a few pictures of you? Just you, to remember today.”
Louis turned, eyebrows lifting slightly, her mouth tugging into a soft smile. “You do know that it’s nearly midnight, right?”
Harry stepped forward, her hands gently holding the strap of her camera. “I know. Just a few, I promise,” she grabbed Louis’ hand. “You just look so happy and incredibly beautiful. I want to frame it.”
“You make it sound like I might disappear if you don’t,” Louis laughed shyly, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear.
“You’re not disappearing,” Harry said, bending down to plant a soft kiss on Louis’ lips. “Just extremely cute and pretty and entirely too hot,” Harry groaned.
Louis tilted her head, a laugh escaping her as she looked into Harry’s eyes. “You’re such a sap, you know that?”
Harry smiled, “I always have been. You’re just finally accepting it.”
“Fine,” Louis said with a small, amused sigh. “But only because you asked so nicely.”
Louis moved across the floor, going behind the counter as Harry took the first few shots. She didn’t pose, didn’t have to. Her fingers traced the surface of the marble counter, her body leaning in familiar ways, her smile unforced as she glanced over her shoulder at Harry.
“Okay, now do that thing that you do where you’re proud of yourself but you want to be modest about it,” Harry said from behind her camera, voice playful.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Louis replied, her lips already twitching into a smile.
“Yes, you do,” Harry laughed. “You get this little smirk, and your eyes squint just the tiniest bit, there it is.”
Louis turned towards her more fully now, her shoulders relaxing. “Alright, that’s enough ego boosting for one night,” she laughed. “I’ve still got some pastries to put away before I get too lazy to do it.”
“I could look at you forever,” Harry said, lowering her camera and stepping forward. “Do you want some help?”
“It won’t take long,” Louis said gently. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered, leaning over the counter and kissing Harry.
Louis disappeared into the kitchen, carrying two trays piled with leftover pastries. She balanced them easily, years of practice making the motion feel like second nature.
She set the trays down carefully, taking a breath as she straightened up and stretched her back. It had been a long day, full of love and happiness, but it had also been exhausting.
Glancing towards the doorway, Louis already felt her heart tugging to return, it was almost ridiculous. The way her body always seemed to crave being close to Harry, like some pull that she never wanted to resist. With a small smile and a last glance at the now neat kitchen, she placed the final tray of pastries into the fridge, closed the door with a soft click, and wiped her hands on her apron before making her way back to the storefront.
She walked through the door cluelessly. And then froze.
The entire space behind her had transformed. The overhead lights had been switched off, and in their place, soft golden candlelight flickered from nearly every surface. Tiny tea lights lined the corners and windowsills, while taller candles glowed from tables and displays. The bakery now felt impossibly intimate.
Louis stepped forward slowly, her shoes tapping gently against the floorboards in the quiet space. With each step, her heart beat a little faster. There was a feeling building in her chest, something that she couldn’t name quite yet.
“Harry?” she called gently, the name catching slightly in her throat.
From behind the counter, Harry appeared, her face lit by candlelight, her expression nervous but warm. She was holding something behind her back, but Louis couldn’t quite see what it was.
Harry was looking at her like she was the only thing in the world, and something about that look made Louis feel like her whole body had already figured out what was coming, long before her mind had caught up.
“Hey,” Harry said softly, shifting on her feet.
Louis blinked at her, already feeling the sting of tears in the back of her eyes. “What…what is all this?”
Harry stepped forward slowly, closing the space between them. She looked beautiful in the low light, soft and a little uncertain, like she’d been rehearsing this moment in her head for a long time.
“I know that today has already been a lot for you,” Harry began, voice trembling slightly, “but I don’t want to wait anymore.”
Louis didn’t move, didn’t say anything. Her hands hung at her sides, fingers softly curling into her palms as if grounding herself in the moment. Her eyes locked onto Harry’s, the world had gone quiet around her, candlelight flickering against the walls. All she could do was stand there, wondering what was going to happen.
“I have been thinking a lot about the past ten months,” Harry said, her eyes searching Louis’ face. “and everything before that, too. The years we had, the years we lost…and how somehow, we still found our way back to each other. We still got here.”
She paused, swallowing hard. “Every morning for the past six months, I’ve watched you build this place. I’ve seen you get up before sunrise, flour on your cheeks while you mumble to yourself about new recipes. I’ve seen you worried and tired and covered in paint, and still smiling. Still soft. Still you.”
Louis let out a shaky breath, her eyes never leaving Harry’s.
Harry took another step forward. “I love your strength. I love how stubborn you are when you believe in something. I love how you laugh with your whole body. I love how you love others so fully, like it’s the easiest thing in the world,” she said softly.
A tear slid down Louis’ cheek. Harry reached out, gently brushing it away with her thumb before reaching out to hold Louis’ hand.
In that small gesture, so full of love, Louis felt the weight of everything they had been through. The years of distance, the slow and careful rebuilding of their relationship, all of it had led to this. To a love that had never really left. And in this moment, Louis realised there was little fragile about what they had now. It was solid and completely theirs.
“I love how you talk to Arthur, and how you listen to him talk like his toy collections are the most important thing in the world. I love how you never give up, even when you’re scared. I love how you’ve taken every broken piece of your story and made something beautiful out of it.”
She let her hand fall back to her side, then slowly dropped to one knee. Louis gasped softly, her hands covering her mouth as her heart stuttered in her chest.
“I want a life with you that feels easy and complete, a life where we wake up slow and end the day even slower. I want your tired feet in my lap after work, your laugh echoing through the rooms of our house, and quiet dinners that turn into hours of conversation,” her eyes met Louis’, “I want Mabel snoring in the corner and Suzy chasing shadows across the floor. I want all of it with you.”
Harry pulled a small box from behind her back and opened it, revealing a delicate gold ring, simple and beautiful. “Louis,” she said, voice trembling slightly, “will you marry me?”
Louis’ hands dropped from her face, her breath catching on a sob. For a moment, all she could do was nod, her smile wide and overwhelmed. Then she dropped to her knees too, throwing her arms around Harry, laughter and tears spilling out at once.
“Yes,” she whispered into Harry’s neck. “Yes. A thousand times, yes.”
Harry released a deep breath and wrapped her arms tightly around her, burying her face in Louis’ neck as the two of them held onto each other like the moment might slip away if they let go.
Louis pulled back just enough to press a soft, lingering kiss to Harry’s lips, one that felt deeper and more meaningful than any they’d shared before. It carried every promise and every bit of love that they had for each other.
When they finally pulled back, Harry took Louis’ hand and slid the ring gently onto her finger, satisfied to see that it fit perfectly.
Louis stared at it for a moment, her heart so full she didn’t quite know what to do with it. Then she looked back at Harry. “I have something for you too,” she said quietly, her voice thick with emotion.
“Wait…what?” Harry blinked at her.
She stood, wiping at her eyes, and moved towards the shelf behind the counter. From a small drawer tucked away beneath a row of carefully labelled ingredients, she pulled out a tiny box, worn at the edges but clearly treasured.
She returned to Harry, who was now standing, eyes still wide from everything that had happened. “I was going to give this to you tonight,” she said with a small smile, “but I guess now is the perfect time.”
Harry opened the box and revealed a silver locket, resting against a red cushion. It was nearly identical to the one that Louis always wore around her neck. She reached out, fingers trembling slightly as she touched it. “Louis…”
“Open it,” Louis said softly.
She did. Inside was a small photograph, faded slightly over the years but still radiating warmth. It was a similar one that Louis kept in her own locket, a photo of Louis, Harry, and Louis’ mother. It was taken years ago, when everything was still simple. Louis’ mom’s arms wrapped around both of them, Harry laughed, and Louis mid-smile.
Harry stared at it, blinking rapidly.
“I had it made a few weeks ago,” Louis whispered. “I wanted you to have it, because no matter what happens…that is who we are. That’s where we started.”
Harry looked up at her, completely undone. “I wear mine every day to remind myself what I’m doing it all for,” Louis continued. “And now, I want you to have yours to remind you of what we’ve always had. Of what we still have.”
She didn’t speak, just reached forward and pulled Louis into another hug. She pressed her forehead to Louis’ and closed her eyes. “I love you,” she whispered, “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
Harry held the locket in her hand, her fingers closing gently around it like it was something fragile, and it was. Her chest tightened as the weight of the meaning settled in her palm. It was more than just a gift. It was trust. It was history. All the years she’d spent wondering if she’d ever feel this sure and this steady had led her here.
Louis smiled, her eyes still glistening with tears that hadn’t fallen. “You came back,” she said gently. “That’s how. You didn’t give up on us, on me. You showed me how easy love can be when it comes from the right person.”
They stood there for a moment, wrapped in the warmth radiating from the candlelight and each other. Outside, the world was quiet. Inside, the bakery felt like the center of everything they needed.
Eventually, Louis leaned back just enough to meet Harry’s eyes, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “So,” she said, stretching the word out with a teasing tone, “fiancée.”
Harry grinned, the word feeling new and exciting on her lips. “Fiancée,” she echoed softly, savouring how it sounded. “God, that feels so good to say.”
“It really does,” Louis murmured. She leaned in as Harry kissed her, letting her eyes flutter closed, the corners of her mouth lifting into a soft smile against Harry’s lips. She let herself feel it fully, her hands resting lightly on Harry’s shoulders. Everything she’d hoped for was right here, holding her close.
“Let’s go home,” Harry whispered after a moment. She gently intertwined their fingers, her thumb brushing over the ring on Louis’ finger. Her gaze lingered on it for a bit, as if she were memorising the sight.
Louis nodded softly, her eyes never leaving Harry’s. She knew that home wasn’t about a building or whose place they ended up tonight, it was about this, about them. As long as it meant falling asleep beside Harry and waking up to her smile, any place would feel right. Being together was all that really mattered now.