Wednesday tried to get back on top of the board, but the sheer power of the waves kept knocking her off. Spluttering and practically blind, she blinked over to where Harry was laid comfortably across his board, grinning at her difficulty.

"Okay, I give up. Surfing is a stupid sport," she shouted, holding the board beside her.

"No, it isn't. You just don't like the fact that you can't do it yet," he replied.

He knew how to wind her up. And the smirk on his face as he used his hands to gently paddle was pissing her off ever further. Was it bad sportsmanship to go over and push him off?

If there was one thing that would propel her to try again, it was the satisfaction of proving him wrong.

The instructor watched from the side, giving clear instructions on how to paddle, which type of wave to catch, how to pull her body up and ride it successfully. All while Harry watched on like the big smiley dickhead he was.

Breathing out to calm her frustration, she tried again, pulling her body onto the board the way she'd been shown. Then, she turned back to check the waves coming and when she spotted one building, she began to paddle. As it began to push the board lifting, she grabbed the edges and started to pull herself up and then—

She fell off.

"I hate this stupid board," she mumbled when she resurfaced, pushing the strands of loose wet hair from her face.

"You're getting better Wednesday!" the instructor encouraged, but it didn't make her feel any better.

She hated doing things she couldn't get the hang of quickly. If it weren't for the fact that Harry was enjoying watching her fail at something, she would have quit an hour ago. But she was determined to prove him wrong. To knock the smug smile off of his face.

Wading back out to where it was deep enough, she got on the board once more. Steadied herself.

"You've got this Wednesday, focus on your positioning when you pop up," the instructor shouted.

She nodded, her lip caught between her teeth as she looked back at the waves. As one came towards her, she began paddling. And then when it caught the board and it began to feel weightless, she pressed her hands flat and stood up quickly. She wobbled at first as she rose, but her worry quickly turned into elation when she realised she was doing it.

She was actually doing it.

The board moved with the waves as she stood on top, looking down in awe at the fact she'd finally had a successful ride.

"I'm doing it!" she yelled.

The wave fizzled out under the board as it began to sink. She let herself fall back into the water with a wide grin, exhausted but accomplished.

She surfaced, looking over to the instructor who was giving her a thumbs up, before looking over to Harry. He was proudly smiling, head tilted to watch her.

As the instructor unhooked her from the board and took it back to shore, she waded over to where he was still laid.

"So, is it still a stupid sport?" he asked, head laid across his folded arms as he looked at her with a knowing smile.

She shrugged. "Not now I can do it."

His smile deepened at her words, dimples appearing in his cheeks. Wednesday couldn't help but stare and be completely enamoured by him. His hair was wet, boyishly hanging over his forehead. Sometimes, she wondered if he'd been hand-carved by god himself. No one man could look as beautiful as him without extra attention being paid to his creation.

Or maybe the genes of Anne were really just that good.

"I think that was just a stroke of luck if I'm honest," he said, grin curling up onto his lips.

It was like now they'd broken past friendship, she wanted him even more. Every little aspect of his face that she hadn't allowed herself to focus on before, she felt obsessed with now. Like the way his eyelashes fluttered when he blinked. Or the way he inadvertently wiggled his nose whenever he was happy.

Part of her wanted to reach out and touch his face, touch him. But she was very aware of the instructor and very aware of them no longer being in the confines of the condo.

So instead, her fingers found the bottom of the board covertly as her eyebrow raised.

"Oh, it was luck was it?"

Before he could reply, she used all of her strength to tip the board over, dumping him into the water with a laugh.

She backed away as she watched him resurface, dripping wet, taking deep breathes as he mischievously grinned. Pushing his hair back, he looked over to her and breathed out a laugh that made her thighs clench together.

"You're gonna pay for that later."

She hoped it was a promise.

Once the lesson had wrapped up and they'd made it back to the condo, Wednesday tiredly opened up the balcony doors, looking out at the secluded beach below. The sun was almost blinding, and the malibu heat had reached its peak.

Harry followed her out a second later, standing beside her.

They stood silently as they looked at the view, comfortable in each other's presence. It was strange to her, that less than 24 hours ago, this was the spot where they'd blurred the lines between friendship and something more. It felt different in the daylight, more innocent than the moonlight.

"I keep thinking that maybe I'm in some type of dream," Wednesday said after a moment, not looking over to him.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, and she could feel his eyes on her.

Biting her inner cheek, she looked over to him. "I mean...this. What happened last night. It all just seems so surreal."

His brows pinched together as he bit his lip. He looked concerned, nervous almost. "Surreal in a good or bad way?"

Wednesday's face softened. "In a good way, of course. It's just...strange. Like I'm still getting used to the fact it's actually happened. I'm still getting used to you kissing me."

Harry smiled gently, nodding as he leant against the railing, looking down at her.

"I know what you mean. I'm still getting used to kissing you too. But I...I wanted what happened last night to happen for a long time now."

Wednesday looked up to him, feeling her heart pound as her eyes searched his.

She didn't know why her brain had still been trying to convince her that as some point, he'd feel regret at what had happened. That he'd eventually come to his senses. Truthfully, that was the biggest part of her struggle to grasp what had happened.

Because the little voice in her mind was still telling her that he didn't feel that way about her.

"You did?" she asked, confusion in her tone.

Looking down with a shy smile, he nodded. "Yeah. I think a part of me has always wanted something more than friendship. Just took me a while to realise."

Swallowing, she furrowed her brows. It was like everything she'd believed so vigorously and intensely for years was proving to, in fact, not be true at all.

"Wait...but...how? I—I thought all this time that you didn't see me in that way?"

It was his turn to look confused. "No," he replied, shaking his head with turned up lips. "I thought it was youwho only saw me as a friend."

"But..." she began, mentally combing over every single interaction that had led her to believe that. One in particular. "But Amsterdam?"

"What about Amsterdam?" he asked, brows pinched together.

"That was the night we kissed. Then the next morning, you said that we were too drunk and that it didn't mean anything," Wednesday said, remembering the words and how they'd stung as clear as day.

"No," he replied, drawing the word out. "I only said that because you said it first to the guys, and I didn't wanna look like an idiot."

"But I only said that to them offhandedly because they were teasing me about it, and I just wanted them to stop," she replied. "I didn't actually mean it."

At that exact moment, it was like a stroke of realisation hit them both in the face. An imaginary lightbulb pinged in both of their heads at what they'd discovered.

It had been a simple miscommunication.

A miscommunication between two teenagers who didn't want to be the first to admit how they really felt.

Wednesday felt like an idiot. All the years of believing she wasn't good enough, subconsciously suppressing her feelings to the point she believed she was unworthy.

Triggered because of one fucking misunderstanding.

"So, that kiss...it did mean something to you?" she asked, still wrapping her head around it, needing to hear it out loud.

"Yeah, of course it did. I might have been drunk, but I know the way it made me feel." He breathed out a laugh, looking down to his legs nervously. "Why did you think I got a careless whisper tattoo literally a month later?"

Her eyes widened, looking down to his bare legs where she could see the words inked into his skin.

'Never gonna dance again.'

It was the song that had been playing during it. Some type of club remix, but the words had still rung in their eyes as their lips had touched for the first time, echoing all around them.

"I—I dunno. I didn't think it was anything to do with the kiss, I thought you just really loved George Michael," she said, her face twisted in pure disbelief.

He'd tattooed the song they'd had their first kiss to on his body. For 7 years he'd had that tattoo and she'd not once suspected that was the reasoning behind it.

She felt like her mind was fried, thoughts whizzing around too quickly to make any sense of.

He looked down to his arm, swallowing as he brought it up to turn it in the light.

"I'm guessing you didn't get the meaning behind this one either then?"

Wednesday looked down, seeing the rose tattoo. It was one of her favourites, the soft shadowing and simple design. She blinked looking up to him.

"The rose..." she said confusedly. Then it hit her. "Rose. My middle name?"

A small smile grew on his lips, confirming her suspicions. "Did you really think I would go this whole time not having any tattoos dedicated to you?"

"I just didn't think—" she said, stopping as words failed her. She didn't want to admit that she'd never thought she was special enough to be given a permanent place on his body. It wasn't something she'd ever gotten upset over or thought about deeply. But the simple answer was that she'd just never seen herself as worthy of being inked onto his body. "You didn't tell me it was for me. I feel like it would have been pretty big-headed of me to assume. I just didn't connect the dots."

Harry moved closer to her, catching her hand in his and rubbing his thumb over hers gently.

"I thought that telling you would creep you out or something. After everything that happened after the kiss, I just...thought it would be better to keep the meaning a secret for me only to know." He forced a small smile. "Kind of wished I had told you now."

Wednesday looked down to his arm, tenderly tracing her fingers over the design. Was this real life? The tattoo she'd spent years admiring and looking at was for her. It almost seemed too good to be true.

"This has always been one of my favourites," she said quietly, looking up to him with a smile that held all of the confusion and emotion she was feeling.

"Mine too," he replied, retuning a similar smile.

She looked out to the sea again, taking a deep breath.

"I can't believe how badly we misunderstood each other," she said, still in disbelief.

"I know. All this time, we thought the other wasn't interested." He paused before speaking again. "I feel like I want to pin the blame on Niall for this. For opening his mouth in the first place."

Wednesday let a small smile grow on her lips. "I think we're allowed to put 50% of the blame on him. The other half lies with us, I reckon."

"That sounds about right," he smiled, still holding her hand and rubbing circles that made her heart want to burst.

She bit her lip, some type of regret beginning to grow in her mind. "I wonder what would have happened. If we'd actually just admitted how we really felt back then."

She couldn't help but wonder 'what if'. What if she'd told him, or he'd told her? Would something have happened between them sooner? Would she have avoided all the misery of feeling inadequate?

Once again, the butterfly effect was kicking her ass.

"I don't know, but it's not important now," he said, grabbing her other hand so that they were both held in his. "Everything happens for a reason. And the only thing that matters, is that we're here now."

His eyes were so warm that she couldn't help but let her face soften.

"You're right. There's no point obsessing over something that can't be changed," she agreed.

Wednesday felt even more tired now, after all the revelations of the conversation. She yawned, her eyes droopily staring out at the calming view of the waves.

"I think it's time for you to have a quick birthday nap," Harry observed with a small smile.

"I think so too." She wiggled her nose, smiling up at him. "Do you....want to nap with me?"

The words came out hesitantly, like she was still treading on thin ice.

Smiling down at her, he nodded. "Mhm. But we need to make sure we're up by 5 at the latest."

"Why?" she asked in confusion.

"You didn't think we wouldn't be doing anything for your birthday tonight, did you?" he replied. "I'm taking you for a night on the town."

As she grinned, so deeply her cheeks hurt, he laced his fingers around her waist. She brought her hands up to his neck, their eyes connecting.

"You're taking me out?"

"Of course," he said, smiling down at her. "And we're going fancy, so you better wear your best outfit."

The happiness she felt, stood there in his arms as he gazed down at her like she was the only person he could see, was indescribable. It was the type of happiness that made you feel like you could float into the clouds. The sort that made everything round you seem just that bit more colourful.

Leaning forward, she kissed him tenderly and longingly. His lips were soft against hers and she didn't think she'd ever tire of kissing them.

Harry pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers, before speaking quietly.

"Come on. Let's go sleep."

Hours later, after they'd spent the rest of the afternoon curled into one another in Wednesday's bed, letting sleep overtake them, they were almost ready to head out once more.

After Harry's alarm had rudely pulled them from sleep, they'd separated off to go get ready. It had only taken Harry maybe 20 minutes, easily fixing his hair and choosing something to wear. But Wednesday had dedicated herself to a full makeover—after all, it was her birthday. She'd deep conditioned her hair and then exfoliated every part of her body before shaving. And once she'd left the shower, she used her fanciest lotions to moisturise.

She left her hair in its natural state, only spraying hairspray and combing down any flyaway hairs. Then she'd opted for a smoky eye and glossy lip, enjoying doing something a little more creative than her usual routine of concealer and lip balm.

Once she'd got ready, she took a look at her whole outfit in the mirror one last time, before walking out into the living area. Her heels tapped against the wood floor and the feeling was foreign to her—as a tall girl, she rarely wore them. But they were black lace up heels and when she'd seem them online, she couldn't resist, putting them in her basket to wear for the right occasion.

It seemed the day had come to finally put them to good use.

Harry was sat on the sofa in his outfit of colourful trousers and a white shirt, texting on his phone when she appeared in the doorway. He looked up nonchalantly, before his eyes caught onto her outfit again and he blinked a few times, staring at her.

She felt a warmth spread on her cheeks as he eyed her from top to bottom, biting his lip to suppress a smirk. Locking his phone, his eyes widened as he stood up and took steps towards her, a devilish look in his eyes that made their usual shade of green seem darker.

"Do you like it?" she asked, feigning innocence.

She'd opted for a little black velvet dress. It was figure hugging, with a square neckline and long sleeves, a slight split on the thigh adding an extra bit of spice. She'd finished the look off with gold layered necklaces and her favourite hoops.

For once, she felt like the baddest of bitches. And no-one could dampen her mood.

Harry's hands found her waist, still keeping his distance so he could take in the whole look, licking his bottom lip. She tried to hide her own smile at how much he was enjoying the view, hiding the fact she'd hoped this would be his reaction.

"You're killing me," he drawled, pulling her closer to him so that their bodies were flush against one another.

She pulled her arms around his neck as he buried his head into her neck, pressing a kiss to the bare skin.

"Do you want to know a secret?" she asked, biting her lip.

"Mm," he hummed against her skin, continuing to lay kisses on her collarbone.

She turned her head, positioning her mouth to his ear and whispering.

"I'm wearing the lingerie Zara got me."

He stopped his movements and lifted his head slowly, his face dripping with want. His eyes connected with hers, almost to tell if she was lying, surprise in his expression.

"The one with the crotchless panties?" he asked, Wednesday feeling his breathing quicken next to her.

She blinked slowly, smiling innocently.

"Yep."

His mouth parted as he looked down, almost as if he was trying to see through the dress.

"Maybe we can spare 15 minutes," he said, letting his hand drag lower down her back, cupping her behind.

But she removed it quickly, taking a step back and shrugging.

"I don't think we have the time," she shrugged, picking up her shoulder bag and pulling it up her arm, trying to hide her amusement.

Harry narrowed his eyes at her, clutching the phone in his hand with a death grip. He looked annoyed, frustrated almost.

"Devil woman," he said after a moment of silence, walking up to her and kissing her cheek.

They got into the private car taking them to whatever establishment Harry was keeping secret from her. She'd tried to pry any information from him, begging for hints. But he'd simply told her that she'd have to wait.

At this point, she didn't know if they were going for food or to a club. It was anyone's guess.

They pulled up at an address she didn't recognise in Beverly Hills 40 minutes later. They were out of view of the street, entering through the side entrance to avoid any possible paparazzi. She still didn't have any clue about where they were and followed Harry through the door wearily.

She wanted to grab his hand, walk through feeling his fingers between hers. But then she remembered that they were in public, not at the condo anymore.