Two months.

Two months of love and whirlwind shows and long bus journeys and touching skin and stolen kisses and standing in the crowd and redeye flights and love making and utter adoration.

Love on tour. It was an appropriate name for a tour that had seen so much of them enamoured by one another. Entwined into one bunk each night, muttering sleepy sweet nothings and dreaming of the future they were going to create as they lay tangled until they were pulled into blissful sleep.

Living as a couple on the road for the American leg of the tour was crowded and busy, but they made it work. In fact, Wednesday couldn't remember a time she'd ever felt so happy, so completely wrapped up in joy that she woke up with a smile on her face at the man laid beside her. It was a constant state of colourful haze, butterflies of all sizes and shades fluttering through her at the reminder that they were together.

Boyfriend and girlfriend.

He was hers and she was his.

Despite the tiredness and the craziness of their surroundings, they were the one constant. The thing that didn't change. They could pass through new cities every day, fly across borders, see new crowds and faces, but it didn't matter where they were when they had each other for comfort. For love.

She'd always tried to avoid the eye of the storm, but realisation had dawned on her in that time that it was actually the most peaceful part. Whilst everything around them was swirling and changing and moving, they were together in the middle—unaffected and calm.

It had taken a while for Wednesday's nerves to settle down as she'd stood at the back of the crowds every night, watching Harry take to the stage with a weariness towards the people surrounding her. Whether they would say anything to her, fix her with glares, whisper abuse loud enough for her to hear. Truthfully, she didn't know if the tingle of anxiety would ever leave her in those moments.

Since the day she'd deleted Twitter from her phone, she'd not checked the comments or the news stories. She knew they were most likely there, feeding rot into people's perception of who she was, but the difference was that now she didn't care to look anymore. It was funny, how much good removing yourself from a toxic cycle and environment can help clear your outlook on life. Those voices that had seemed so loud at one point were now nothing but an occasional whisper, disappearing into the air around her as quickly as they materialised. They didn't mean anything. She knew who she was, and with every passing day, she was learning how she deserved to be treated.

That didn't include allowing other people to dictate her happiness anymore.

But one thing she'd not allowed herself to see before was the abundance of love and respect towards her from the fans. Though her nerves were always anticipating backlash, she barely received any. Not in person, at least. Most nights, she found herself talking to some of the girls, asking how they were enjoying it, what their favourite songs were. And sometimes she would get the occasional question about her and Harry, asking if they were an actual couple—but instead of freaking out, she would take a deep breath, smile, and say yes.

When Sade had told her all those months ago that her fears, her beliefs, her opinions weren't real, she'd found it so hard to believe. Because they were wound so deep into the fabric of who she was that it had been damn near impossible to tell fact from fiction at one point. To separate the fake from the real. But with every passing day, her clarity seemed to be increasing. The ability to recognise those fears and beliefs as something not real getting stronger each day.

Every time she stood in those crowds and was met with nothing but respect and kindness, those fears disintegrated a bit more. And every added day she went without caring what the world thought about her relationship, the more confident she got in not hiding it. Not hiding their love for other people's benefit. Where once she would have been too scared to even hold his hand in public, now she was quickly realising that life was too short to not do what you wanted to do.

And what she wanted to do was love without restrictions.

So, she did exactly that.

Not to mention how utterly ecstatic their friends and family were about the confirmation of their relationship. Their mums had all but thrown a party; Mitch and Sarah had spent the whole tour inviting them on double dates; Gemma came along to a show to hang out with them both as an official couple for the first time and Zara...well, Zara reacted in the only way she knew how—sending them a hamper full of champagne, chocolates and condoms to 'use asap', as per her words.

As they hit the two-month anniversary, marking two whole months of officially being a couple since that fated night in Paris, Wednesday began to wonder whether the high would ever end. Whether the sheer joy of knowing she was going to spend the rest of her life with Harry would ever mellow out. With each week since they'd gotten back together, their love had only strengthened. And in turn, her happiness had only become more solid, more constant.

Funnily enough, every day since their reconnection, there had been one constant answer in her gratitude journal.

Love.

The American leg of the tour wasn't over yet though—it was only mid-August and there were still a few weeks of shows to go carrying on into September. But August was a month Wednesday would come to dread for the rest of her life because of one specific date. That year, it would be two years since her dad's passing. Two whole years without him there, to guide her and teach her and make her laugh.

Knowing how busy Harry was and how tightly spaced the shows were together, she'd assumed she would travel back to Holmes Chapel alone to be with her mum for the day. It wasn't a problem for her, and Harry not messing up his routine was more important to her than anything else. She was more than capable of going back on her own. But Harry had very quickly shut that idea down, claiming in his own words that there was 'no chance in hell' he was letting her be alone on a day she dreaded more than anything. Her protests fell on deaf ears; he booked their flight tickets back and worked the extremely quick two day stopover into the tour schedule before she could argue further.

That was how she found herself bleary eyed and barely awake in her mum's kitchen, the inkling of a headache already forming in her skill.

Blinking away the tiredness from her eyes as jetlag wreaked havoc on her body, Wednesday made herself another cup of coffee, praying that some energy would find its way back into her body. But somehow, the sombreness of what that day marked made her feel like nothing would make her truly present for the rest of the day.

Pongo's soft fur was brushing against her bare leg, tickling the spot above her knee and she looked down with an amused smile to see him staring back up at her, his eyes wide in joy whilst his tongue flapped out to the side.

"What's wrong boy? Have you missed me? I've missed you," she cooed, leaning down to scratch behind his ear as footsteps padded down the stairs.

He kicked his leg out as she scratched, looking up with the mug in her free hand to see Harry entering the kitchen freshly showered in a t-shirt and gym shorts with wet, floppy hair sticking boyishly to his forehead. In a moment, all of Pongo's allegiance to her was lost as he quickly scrambled and turned away, walking to Harry for his attention instead.

Wednesday watched the sight of Harry squatting down to stroke him with her jaw dropped in annoyance. "You little attention whore," she said, eyeing Pongo who was now on his back and loving life as Harry rubbed his belly.

Harry looked up to her, grinning smugly. "Don't take it personal. Pongo has a special place for me in his heart. Just like his mummy."

Rolling her eyes, Wednesday turned to the kettle and made Harry a cup of coffee too, knowing he was equally tired as her after the flight, if not more so.

Without warning a moment later, she felt Harry's hand on her hip and his lips pressing a caring kiss to her cheek. His thumb stroked into the skin under her t-shirt, his eyes bearing into her as he breathed out solemnly.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, seeing the glaze of sadness in her eyes.

She swallowed back her emotion, forcing a tight smile at him.

"Pretty shit. I don't think I expected to feel any other way today though," she answered quietly, looking back down to the mug of coffee she was stirring her spoon absentmindedly in.

Like he knew that there was nothing he could say to change the way she felt, nor take her pain away, he wrapped his arms around her middle, resting his head onto her shoulder as he held her to him warmly. She smiled at the touch, instantly melting into his comfort. Maybe this was his solution; showering her with so much love that the pain was temporarily blocked.

Wednesday gripped her hands over his as a lump formed in her throat.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"I love you too," she whispered back, her voice shaky with the threat of tears.

The entire day was one of remembering what she'd lost. Who'd she lost. An anniversary of death that would inevitably leave her pained and emotionally stretched every time it rolled around. But with Harry wrapped around her, a literal blanket of love, she felt like getting through it maybe wouldn't be as tolling with him by her side.

As they stood there, hugging and swaying together in the moment of silent comprehension, the sound of the front door opening and closing sounded out to where they stood. They both turned, still tucked into one another to see Jane walking into the room, looking up through reddened eyes to see them stood there with a surprised expression.

"Oh, good morning you two. Did you sleep okay?" she asked, smiling widely at them both as she reached down to pet Pongo.

Wednesday cleared her throat as she stepped out of Harry's immediate grasp, keeping her little finger locked around his in a secret act of comfort.

"A bit tired but the coffee will bring us around," she replied, smiling lightly. "Do you want one?"

"Yes please," her mum said tiredly.

Wednesday could see the pain she was feeling. It was in the way her smile didn't quite meet her eyes, how she was more subdued than usual. She recognised it because she'd seen that same pain in her own face enough times in the mirror. Much like Harry to her, it hurt to know she couldn't do anything to take her pain away other than be there for her with as much love and support as she had to muster.

She'd slowly started to make peace with the fact that it would never feel like enough.

Turning around to grab another mug, Wednesday smiled warmly at Harry, sliding his coffee over to him. "Here you go."

Taking it with gratitude, he pecked her lips and whispered a gentle, "thanks baby," for her ears only.

"It's so lovely to see you two like this finally," her mum said from behind them a second later, making both of them coyishly look to each other. "It's like you were meant to be."

Wednesday looked over her shoulder as she poured the water out.

"Took us a bit of time but we finally got there," she said, looking to Harry afterwards with a small smile which he returned.

"Well, it's felt like a long time coming," she said as Harry leant against the counter with his mug in hand.

"Trust me, I know," Harry joked, making Wednesday shake her head in amusement.

Passing the coffee over to her mum, she mirrored Harry's stance as she leant against the counter towards her, her own mug in hand.

"Did you go and visit dad?" she asked, already knowing the answer from the lingering redness in her mum's eyes.

Forcing a soft smile, she nodded and looked down to her mug.

"I went and took some fresh flowers, had a good old natter. I was talking so much I could just imagine him on the other side saying 'will you give it a rest woman!'"

They all laughed, a sad, nostalgic laugh that hurt. Wednesday could hear him saying it clear as day, his words holding irritation but a smile creeping across his face, expressing the love he had for the woman he'd married. It was only in those moments of reflection that she realised how similar to him she was. How she too hid behind insults and eye rolls and mockery as a way of expressing her love. It was the way she'd watched her parents love thrive and develop and somewhere along the line, she'd internalised it to be how she herself acted towards the people she loved.

"I just can't believe it's been two years," her mum quietly sighed, looking up to them both with glossy eyes that made Wednesday's heart ache.

Clearing her throat, she nodded. "I know. It's gone by so quickly that it feels unfair."

Noticing the tear slip out from the corner of her mum's eye, she placed the mug down and rounded the counter, pulling her into a hug. Her throat was thick with emotion and she sniffed back her own tears, catching Harry's eye as he looked at the two women embracing sadly and helplessly, like he knew there was nothing to do other than let the emotions flow freely.

"I can't believe it's been two years since I last got to have him as a drunk karaoke partner," he said quietly, making both of them breath out a laugh. "Singing Highway to Hell just hasn't felt the same since."

Her mum chuckled, stepping out of the hug as she brushed the wetness from under her eyes and looked over to him.

"You two dancing around to Come On Eileen every Christmas without fail was always such a fun time," she said, looking to him with a warm gaze. "He would have been absolutely ecstatic about you two getting together. You were already like a son-in-law to him. I think that's why he hated the other one so much."

Wednesday laughed at her mum's choice to omit the name of her ex, seeing Harry's amused grin and knowing that despite the heavy topic, her words meant more to him than she could ever know.

And they were also possibly an ego boost against a man he hated with his whole being.

"He was a brilliant man and I'm grateful to have known him," he said earnestly, making Wednesday's heart soar. "Even if he did support the worst team in the premier."

Pointing her finger at his smirking face with a narrowed glare, Wednesday quickly scolded him. "Oi, watch yourself. This is still very much a house of Liverpool supporters."

Holding up his hands in surrender, he shrugged his shoulders. "Fine, fine. I'll keep my correct opinion to myself from now on."

Walking back around the counter, Wednesday couldn't help but mutter under her breath "incorrect opinion but whatever," making him grin at her complete stubbornness.

"Are you visiting the grave today?" her mum asked, sitting down at the island counter opposite them.

"Yeah. Once I get showered, I think we'll take Pongo and go for a walk round, sit down for a bit," Wednesday answered, already feeling nervous at the prospect.

Visiting the grave always felt sobering, but there was something anxiety inducing about going on a day where his loss was all she could think about. A day where the reality of his presence no longer being there was heartbreakingly obvious in the measure of time. She'd done the same a year before and it had broken her, in every which way.

"That will be nice for you. Pongo too."

Immediately, his chubby body raised from the floor as his tail wagged at the mention of his name, rushing forward towards her mum for head scratches, making them all smile in unison.

Downing the rest of her coffee, Wednesday stretched her arms out tiredly before stepping forward. "Right, well I'm gonna go get showered now and we can set off after, once I'm ready."

"Okay love," her mum replied, still stroking Pongo's head. "Remember that we're going round to Anne's this afternoon, around 1."

"That's fine," Wednesday replied, shooting them both a final smile before walking out of the room and traipsing up the stairs.

As she grabbed her items and towels from her case, she was ready to enter the bathroom when she heard the faint voices of Harry and her mum drifting from downstairs. Lightly walking to the edge of the banister, she tilted her head and listened, smiling at the image of them talking so relaxedly.

"I can't explain it, but you bring out a side of her that no-one else has ever managed. This softer, more vulnerable part of her that she's scared for anyone else to see," her mum said, her voice muffled a bit by the distance. "You really do bring out the best in her."

"I think we bring out the best in each other. She makes me want to be a better version of myself," Harry replied, and she swallowed as she listened, her throat suddenly tighter.

She knew this was a private moment, not meant for her ears. But there was something so sweet and pure about the two people she loved more than anything else in the world sharing a moment like this that she just wanted to listen for a second more.

"You both definitely do. I've never seen a couple look so glowing and happy before. It suits you both."

"What?"

"Being in love."

There was a pause and she wondered if Harry was smiling in that shy way he did when he didn't really have any words to say. But a second later, he replied so quietly that it was a strain for her to hear.

"I just want to make her happy. It's all I care about. I want to make her feel how she's always made me feel."

"You're certainly doing that love. I can see it in her face. A mother knows her own child."

Wednesday quietly stepped away from the banister, backing away into the bathroom and lightly locking the door behind her. But as she turned on and stepped into the shower, she bit her lip as a tear rolled down her cheek and mixed in with the stream of water. Whether it was from happiness or sadness or a complete overwhelming mixture of the pair, she didn't know. All she knew was that with the unconditional love of the two people downstairs, she was going to be alright.

An hour later, with Pongo's leash in her hand and Harry's in the other, she looked up to the familiar archway of the cemetery. They followed the route through; turn left at the birch tree, along the row until they came to the shining marble headstone. She smiled sadly at the fresh roses, a mixture of white and red, left by her mum. Leaning forward, she gently placed her own flowers next to them—daffodils they'd picked from the bottom of the garden. One's he'd planted a long time before.

Harry squeezed her hand soothingly, rubbing his thumb over her skin in a silent act of comfort. She looked to him with watery eyes and before she could say anything, he was pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her neck in a hug. Sniffling against his t-shirt, she laid her head onto his chest and gripped his hips, not realising just how much she needed a hug.

Tears fell from her eyes without so much as a sob. They were laced with so much sadness and grief, that no noise was necessary to display how much she missed him. It was in the way, for a second, it felt like the flow of tears might never stop. A river without an end.