Wednesday laid across Harry's bed, watching him fold and pack the clothes he was pulling from his drawers with a sad gaze. He had an album playing in the background, Tapestry by Carole King, the soft songs floating through the air and fitting the calm mood.

There were only two days left to go until tour and Wednesday had been counting each day down like it was some type of impending apocalypse. She knew it was ridiculous—for the first two weeks, he'd still be in the UK, only a car ride away.

But it was the time after that she was scared for. When their time together would consist of redeye flights and hotel rooms and stolen moments. She liked the comfort of turning over to see him in bed first thing in the morning. The feeling of being wrapped in his arms and listening to his heartbeat against hers.

She'd never tell him how nervous she was for him to finally go back onto the road, purely because of how excited he was for it. Every time he talked about it, his entire face lit up with anticipation. He was nervous, but the good kind of nervous that makes you feel completely alive. Just because they were now more than friends, didn't mean she was going to project her own anxiety onto him. That wasn't fair.

"Have you got enough hoodies? You know how cold it gets on the bus," she asked, straining her eyes into the case.

"Yep. Got 5 in there, plus the one I'll be wearing setting off," he replied, leant onto his lower legs.

She nodded, looking back at the case as she gnawed her inner cheek.

"And you've got your windbreaker in there, in case it rains when you go running?"

He looked up, smiling as he pulled at the multicoloured fabric slightly, showing that it was already packed.

Sitting back, she nodded and continued to watch him fold.

Until.

"Did you remember your back up inhaler medication? Because you know how—"

"Wednesday," he said, looking up to her with an amused smile, the bag of replacement cannisters in his hand. "Relax. Believe it or not, I have done this once or twice before."

"I know, I know," she replied, lying back down and leaning her head onto her hands as she sighed.

"What's really the matter?" he asked, scooting forward on the floor so that he reached the end of the bed. He pushed a strand of her hair back, leaning his face onto the duvet as he stared up at her.

She turned her head towards him and shrugged. "I think it's just hitting me now that you're going on tour. And I won't be there."

A soft smile came up onto his lips as he reached out to grab her hand, rubbing the skin over her thumb. It was funny, how music had a weird way of fitting into your exact mood. So Far Away was playing quietly in the air between them, saying everything they couldn't.

"I'm never going to be too far. Just remember, even when I'm playing in some faraway country, I'm only going to be half the world away," he said, his green eyes searching for some type of relief in hers.

His words settled for a second, until she smiled and furrowed her brows amusedly. "Did you just use an oasis song to make me feel better?"

"Yes, I did," he said, proudly smiling. "Did it work?"

"A bit," she replied, looking down to their intertwined hands.

Her smile began to falter as the anxiety crept back in, the temporary moment of relief washed away.

"Tell me what's on your mind," he whispered, seeing the worry through her eyes.

She looked to him, biting her cheek as she wondered whether or not to say her fears out loud. Fears that so far only Sade could understand. Fears that she knew were most likely irrational and unwarranted. But they still lingered at the back of her mind, and every now and then, in the quieter moments, they would quickly rush to the forefront. Taking the opportunity to have their fun.

"I guess I'm just scared that..." she began, eyes flicking over to him nervously. "That you'll go on tour and realise that this isn't what you want anymore."

She avoided his eyes as her words, said so quietly and full of shame, settled in the air between them. Wednesday had never let him come so close to understanding the inner workings of her mind. That core belief trying to rot every single good thing at the centre of her being.

She wished she wasn't like this. Broken and faulty. Romance seemed so easy for other people. You meet someone, develop feelings, tell them you like them and that's it. No underlying belief that they actually are just waiting for the next best thing. No worries that they're going to realise you're not worth it. No subconscious sabotage to protect themselves.

"What?" he asked, sitting up and looking at her like she'd just told him she believed the earth was flat.

Wednesday didn't reply. What could she reply to that? There was no logic to describe her fears because it inherently lacked it in the first place. Harry had given her no reason to believe that would happen. And yet, it was like she was waiting for it. Waiting for the moment the dream ended.

He released her hand and touched under her chin, turning her head towards him. His brows were pinched together, face serious as he looked between her eyes.

"Wednesday, that's not going to happen. Ever."

Inadvertently, her fingers began to pick as she stared at him. She nodded, forcing a smile.

"I know, it's stupid. I hate that I feel like this sometimes."

"Like what?" he asked gently.

She paused as shallow breathes left her lips. "Insecure."

A beat passed between them. Harry moved his body so that he was situated right in front of her. He moved his hand between hers, stopping her from picking anymore and kept his other under her chin. Their faces were only inches apart and goosebumps ignited on her skin at the close proximity.

"Why are you insecure?"

She could tell from the way his eyes were looking deep into hers for an answer, that he didn't have the faintest idea of why she felt how she did.

There was a part of her that wanted to tell him. Explain every weird, unfunctional part of her mind that sometimes made her feel like this. It would surely answer a lot of the questions he silently had.

But then she remembered how woven into that narrative he was. And if there was one thing she was notabout to do, it was to make him feel unnecessarily guilty or responsible for something that was entirely her own problem. She knew Harry well enough to know that regardless of whatever she told him, he would feel like it was his fault.

And if there was a feeling worse than being insecure, it was being the cause for him feeling bad.

"Sometimes I just overthink things. Get into my own head a little bit too much," she replied. Not the entire truth, but not a lie either.

His face softened as he looked at her, the hardness in his face melting away as he caressed her cheek with his thumb.

"I promise that you don't have a single thing to worry about," he said, a smile coming up onto his lips. "Every night, on that stage, I'm going to be singing those songs with your face in my mind."

She couldn't fight the smile that grew as she leant into his touch, holding his hand over her cheek. Sometimes, his words were just the medicine she needed to temporarily relieve her of all her problems.

Leaning forward, the inches of space between them melted away as he kissed her gently, lovingly, for a prolonged moment.

"I forgot to say, I got you a leaving present," Wednesday said quietly, the thought hitting her as she broke the kiss.

It was a good moment to change the subject to something much more light-hearted and therefore, much more up Wednesday's street.

His eyebrow raised, staring back at her. "A present for me?"

Wednesday bit her lip, smirking as she nodded. Reaching for her bag on the floor, she rummaged for a few seconds as he watched in anticipation. Then her fingers found the sharp edge and she pulled it out, holding it out for him.

"A little something for when I'm not there and you're lonely at night," she grinned.

He grabbed the polaroid picture, bringing it up to his eyes. An instant smirk graced his lips as he analysed every part of the photo she'd taken of herself earlier in the week, dressed in nothing but lacey lingerie (Zara's suggestion—who else?). It showed half of her face, cutting out at the middle of her nose, but she'd managed to take the perfect photo of her posed body, her dark hair cascading over her shoulder.

After 3 large glasses of wine, her courage had finally been built up enough to get changed and sit herself in front of the camera, hoping that they'd come out at least half decent.

And well, they were slightly blurred but focused enough for him to enjoy. For a short while afterwards, Wednesday barely recognised who she was with the burst of confidence it provided, but she enjoyed it.

When he'd looked at it for what felt like minutes, he stood and placed the photo down on top of the dresser carefully.

"That's going straight into my wallet, so I can have you with me at all times," he said, walking back to the bed and sitting down next to it.

"I'm glad you like it," she said, trying not to let her relief that he'd liked it show too much.

"You know," he said, licking his lips as he looked to the floor and then back to her. "The packing doesn't need to be done right now. I can probably hold off on doing it for a while."

Wednesday noticed his suggestive smirk grow, the one that always sent a volt of nervous excitement through her. Even now, weeks after they'd gotten accustomed to each other's bodies, he could still send butterflies throughout her entire body with just one look.

"Hm," she said, smiling and leaning forward to kiss him again. "What else do you want to do in the meantime?"

"I can think of something," he said, reconnecting the kiss.

He shifted onto his knees as Wednesday pulled her body up so that she too was sat on her knees at the end, both of them smiling into the kiss suggestively. His arms laced around her waist, pulling her towards him as they both let the kiss linger.

"You know, I was actually planning to shower soon," Wednesday said, keeping her arms wrapped around his neck as she looked down at him with a playful smile.

"Oh really?" he asked, planting a kiss to her neck.

"Mhm," she hummed, enjoying the feeling as her head tilted naturally. "But I might need help to reach certain places."

"Is that so?"

More kissing and smirking and butterflies.

"Yep," she grinned, biting her own lip. "Do you think you'd be able to help?"

He pulled back, his darkened eyes dripping with lust as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. The corner of his lips tugged up as his hands travelled down to her bum, curving over it and squeezing tight enough that sent a flush of colour to her cheeks.

"I think so."

Wednesday smiled at him, moving one leg to the floor and then the other, looking back at him invitingly before walking across the floor to the ensuite. Grinning as she heard his steps behind her, she leant around the glass pane to turn the shower on and let it heat up. She turned to see him stood looking at her in the doorway, almost waiting for her to make the first move.

Biting her lip, she felt a wave of confidence come over her. It always did when her mind was clouded with want and desire. Her fingers found the edge of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head in one second, as he continued to watch with his mouth parted.

She could hear the beating in her eyes as her hands then found the waistband of her joggers, working them down and off her legs. Stepping out of them and now stood only in her black plain bra and panties, she looked back to him. His eyes were traveling over her body like she was a work of art he wanted ingrained into his mind.

That was how he always made her feel. Extraordinary. Beautiful. Even if she didn't feel it about herself. The way he looked at her was like she was a rarity—something that couldn't be recreated. His own Venus de Milo.

Moving her arm to her back, she found the fabric of her bra, the coldness of the clasp. And with one click, it loosened and fell down her arms, exposing her chest for him to see. His Adams apple bobbed and the growing tightness in his shorts wasn't lost on her. It gave her a sense of power, that she could have that effect on him without even touching him.

Then, there was only one thing left for her to remove. Hooking her fingers around her panties, she leant forward and pulled them slowly down, revealing herself fully to him. Her heartbeat thumped all across her body; against her ribcage, in her ear, between her legs. They finally dropped to a pile at the bottom of her feet as she stood back up straight.

Her eyes latched onto his as he took in the view of her, completely bared just for his eyes only. The room was starting to steam now, the sound of the shower filling the air. Before he could move, she took a step towards him. And another. Until she was stood right in front of him as he watched her closely, letting her do whatever she wanted to as long as he got to watch.

Finding the bottom of his hoodie, she began to drag it up his body slowly as he followed her movements, lifting his arms up to allow it to slide off easily. His sculpted body flexed involuntarily with the movement, and for a moment, her eyes were transfixed on his torso. The contrast of the tattoos against his skin.

She could still remember the time where his skin hadn't been inked. Innocent and young, still not fully aware of what was going to come. How everything was going to change. It didn't seem right to picture him without them now. They were a part of him, so iconic to his individuality. Her eyes flicked down to the rose, fingers brushing it tenderly.

Hers.

Pulling her lip between her teeth as she lightly grasped the top of his shorts, their eyes reconnected as she began to move them down. His breathes were coming out shaky, she could hear from the way his lips had parted to get the extra oxygen. A few seconds later, they dropped to the floor. And then there was only one piece of fabric separating them.

Stepping even closer, she let her fingers touch him over the boxers, watching how he reacted to her movement. His abs tensed as she stroked gently, a ragged breath tumbling from his lips. The pulse between her own legs was pining for any sort of release or friction.

Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. And then again, slightly lower on his sternum. Her fingers found the waistband of his boxers as she continued to press kisses lower down his torso. She knew his breathing had picked up in anticipation, hearing him above her.

She needed this. Needed to feel close to him before he left. Connect their bodies together for one of the last times in the freedom of their own space. She wanted him to feel the way she made him feel. Wanted to reaffirm her own feelings.

Ever so slowly, she began to pull the fabric down as she reached his bellybutton, pressing a kiss just above it. She felt the tightness within them loosen when she'd pulled them down far enough, seeing all of him as she looked downwards.

When she'd leant as low down as she could, she slid one knee onto the tiled floor. And then the other as she continued to kiss down the trail of hair at the bottom of his stomach, getting closer to the area he was silently begging for her touch.

She looked up, seeing him watching her intently, his bottom lip caught between his teeth so harshly it had turned white. Without breaking eye contact, she took him in her hand, rubbing her thumb over the tip. It sparked joy in her to watch his lips part as he sharply inhaled at the barely there contact, wanting him to feel as good as he always made her feel.

Leaning forward with him gently grasped in her hand, she licked a long, slow line underneath from the base all the way to the tip, earning a deep strangled breath from him. Her tongue circled on the reddened skin, a colour that matched his lips. And then, opening her mouth, she took him by an inch, making a moan spill from him.

Pushing her head forward further, she kept her hand at the base, her other on his thigh to steady herself. Slowly, she pushed herself as far as she could go until he hit the back of her throat, making her eyes water. And then she pulled back and repeated the motion, once again pushing herself to her limits, spurred on by his trembling legs and jagged breaths.

Her hand and mouth began to work in unison, making sure that every inch of him was being touched by her. She felt his hands tangle in her loose hair, pulling it back gently as she rocked back and forth.

"Wednesday, fuck—" he said fervently, his words laced with pleasure.

Continuing her actions, she looked up, wanting to see his face. And the aching between her legs only increased as her brown eyes found his green ones, staring down at her, enjoying the view. Admiring the way she looked on him. It was enough to send any sane person into a spiral.

She disconnected her lips when her eyes were teary, needing a moment to catch her breath. Her hand did the work, pumping up and down firmly. Moving the other hand from his thigh, she took the opportunity to reach under him, cupping and cradling his most sensitive area. A small smile graced her lips when he moaned at the contact, deep from within like he couldn't stop it from coming out.

"Fuck," he repeated, gripping the doorframe with one hand to keep his balance.

His eyes kept changing between being wired shut in pleasure and looking down to the view of her below him, completely naked and on her knees.

And then, without warning, she opened her mouth and took him once more. Holding his thighs with each hand, she kept her eyes closed as she pushed herself to the limit, taking him as far as she could. Every inch she moved forward earnt animalistic moans from him as he inhaled and exhaled quickly, like he was trying to catch his breath.

Her eyes watered again, her jaw getting tired, but she knew she could do it. And with one final push, her lips hit the base as she reached the end. She moaned, knowing it would vibrate throughout him and his head rolled back in response, his hand tightly tangled in her hair. Unable to remain any longer, she released him and brushed away the tear that had spilt over, gasping for air.

Looking down to where she knelt, breathing heavily, his hand left the doorframe and grabbed hers, motioning for her to stand. She did as she was told, getting back to her feet. As soon as she was back in his eye level, he closed the gap between them, crashing his lips to hers as he pressed into her thigh.

His hands wrapped around her waist, gripping the skin tightly as she held onto his neck. Their lips were working furiously, messily connecting in a fire of passion. He walked her backwards, turning so that her bum met the cool of the bathroom counter. With one swift movement, he hoisted her up and onto it, so that she was leant over the marbled counter, her back against the steamed mirror.

He kissed her like she tasted of honey, something sweet he couldn't get enough of. He held her legs by his sides as her hands held onto the nape of his neck, nails digging in. His head dipped, planting sloppy kisses along her collarbone as she moaned into the thick, warm air.