Before we start, that TPWK mv, though. Perfection. He started off 2021 right.

And omgosh, 51K+ I love you all, I swear.

Enjoy this one, my rosy tulips 🌷

♬ ✥*

Serenity.

After a long day of work, Harry and I were both lying in my bed. His head rested on my stomach while I ran my fingers through his soft, pretty hair. Stands captured and I'd wrap them around my fingertips, creating a temporary curl, only for it to fade once released.

His hands occasionally tickled my knee, feeling him smile each time did so. I squirmed in under his touch, causing me to tug at his roots to get him to stop. He would slightly turn so that he could face me for a short moment, showing me just how deep his dimples were, with emerald gems sparkling so bright. The reflection of the fairy lights above my bed shined in his green eyes, lighting up my heart.

To be honest, I think he just wanted to see me smile, but my view was so much prettier. To see a smile on Harry's face, brought joy to the moon up above.

Sometimes, I wondered if that's the reason why it's always so happy whenever I gaze up at the sky — possibly because of my smiling Harry.

Looking into my eyes, I saw them shimmer with something unfamiliar, but I didn't have enough time to figure out what it was before he tickled me again.

Harry went into a fit of giggles as I squealed from his actions, squirming once more under his touch. I tried to push him off the bed, and when he was close to the edge, he grabbed hold of my legs, holding them close to his torso to prevent him from falling.

He lifted his hands up in surrender and then settled himself back to how he was. I smiled to myself, seeing as his eyes were closed as I returned to rake my fingers through his silky strands. A soft hum escaped his lips from contentment. He was so relaxed and calm. Harry had a tendency to say that I was 'his serenity.' It was never meant in a possessive way, or with regards to my actual name, but just with that noun definition.

It's hard to think that this beautiful and fragile man is also the CEO of a multimillion-dollar company. He was two separate people when he's in front of the thousands who work below him and behind closed doors.

Harry placed Emmy on the nightstand, making sure he could see him from his view. There was something so precious about the way he looked at the stuffed animal. In reality, it was just a toy from a carnival, but it seemed so much more to him. It was almost as if he genuinely saw himself in the faint reflection in the eyes of the plush tiger. Black and white with green eyes. When he won it for me, he said: "So you can have something to hold onto whenever you miss me."

Those words repeated themselves in my mind like a broken record — and it appeared that they did for Harry as well. The moment he first saw Emerald on my bed, I saw the tiniest of smiles on his lips, afraid that I would see it; of course, he was mistaken — obviously, I saw it.

The softness on his face was absolutely priceless, and it was a moment I would forever cherish. He was so touched with the fact that I actually did that.

My heart, however, broke just a little bit when I saw how he inspected it. It seemed that he was sure there would be rips or tears — or simply that Emerald wasn't treated with kindness.

Slight relief appeared within his expression at that realisation.

He tried to hide many things from me, and it's not that I planned on finding them out to dig into his past, but instead, it was just because his actions were so easy to read. At least, to me, they were. No one else noticed that Harry wore contacts or even gave a second thought that he would have a soft side. He never dared to let a soul see through him.

But, I was the exception.

Until this very day, I was unsure whether he did it on purpose, or involuntarily acting the way he truly is — just Harry.

His arms now wrapped around my thighs, gently grazing my exposed skin with his fingertips. He was holding on to them, almost as if he was afraid to let go — that I would disappear if he did. I wasn't going anywhere.

"Starlight?"

"Yeah, Tiger?"

"Can I tell you something?"

It was the first time that Harry asked me this. He usually just told me to tell 'him' something. All of our chats had that — it was almost a trademark between us ever since the beginning. There was never a question involved, only a solemn and caring request.

"Of course. Anything you want," I replied.

He took a deep breath before speaking, "I, um, I've always struggled with telling someone something. The main reason is that they tend to always take advantage of what I say or use it against me in the future."

I debated on commenting on that, saying that I'd never do that to him, but I didn't want to interrupt. It seemed that it was the first time he was opening up about something by himself, not just me finding out by asking or in a different way.

And then there was the question of 'who' hurt him, but I just waited to see if he'd mention it.

Something inside me told me that someone I already despised was going to be in this story.

"I — uh, I told you I was bullied a lot in school. Everything was used against me during that time. Other students forced me to help them cheat. When I'd tell them no, I'd end up with a black eye quickly after. No one was hurt, both physically and emotionally, more than me in that school. It was so fucking corrupt towards me, but I couldn't do anything about it," he spoke nervously.

"My father treated me like shit, but practically showered the academy in gold. It was all because of its fucking name — 'It's one of the most prestigious in the country, so be grateful,' he'd tell me,'" Harry said, pausing as he let out a deep sigh.

"The second I was finally free from that school, I came here with my only mate, who went through hell together. We were always there for each other, and helped one another out..." he trailed off, biting his lip in anxiousness. "...and then one day, I found out that his 'friendship' was just an entire lie. He was in it because of my surname — because my family was fucking rich.

"He knew that I didn't use a penny my father gave me when I moved here and that I worked my arse off to get where I am, but that didn't matter. Being friends with a 'Styles' was considered an honour and that it would 'get him places.'

"Even when I met, who I thought was the love of my life, she also broke my fucking heart. The greed she had when she was with me, it was ridiculous. I wish I could take back how I was with her — I wish that I could've seen who she truly was.

"My ex, Madison, s-she, um, she called me blind because I couldn't see her properly without my glasses. She hated whenever I was wearing them with her, so I tried not to do that. I pushed past that, and more, because I loved her. She treated me like shit.

"You know," he paused, recalling something as he let out a sad laugh. "She once threw my glasses off when I was making love to her. She made me put on my contacts when my eyes were bloody red that day because I was so tired — and I fucking did it, like the fool that I was, just to make her happy. And then just before I was about to fall asleep with her in my arms, she told me that she faked everything."

He tensed above me, fisting my comforter near him from the anger he had for this woman — and I didn't blame him one bit.

I felt wet splotches on my stomach through my shirt, and my heart clenched at the realisation. My strong tiger was finally letting out a part of his history — and it was also a part of his emotional destruction. As happy as I was that Harry was able to do this, I was torn on the inside.

Softly, I wrapped my fingertips around the curls in his hair and massaged his scalp. I was already doing it, but I focused with my touch to make sure he felt safe. My mom always did it to me when I was younger, and it helped relax me and calm me down whenever something was bothering me.

"I was so pathetically in love, and it wholly switched to hate. I fucking hate Madison with everything in me. I never realised how blind I truly was until it was too late. She shattered me," he spoke, muffled words as he choked on a soft sob.

If I despised this woman before, now, I absolutely hate her with everything in me. She hurt my Harry and broke his heart to pieces.

Harry was trying to keep it together as much as he could. He was so vulnerable right now, and I knew that he had let all his walls down now. Each of them collapsed, stacks of hay laid on the ground without an ounce of strength could pull them up again.

He laid in a bed of glass shards and needles, barely breathing so he wouldn't get tortured further.

"She didn't deserve you," I whispered, holding back my own tears.

And then he quickly raised his head up to face me. I pulled my hands away, suddenly afraid to touch any part of him. His sudden action frightened me because I didn't know how he translated my words.

But when I saw his eyes, I regretted my brief comment. Oh, goodness, I missed the sparkle in them.

His once bright, emerald green gems, with such a pearly sclera, were now dull, swimming in a pool of crimson. They were shimmering, not out of happiness, but from utter agony. Every glint, broke my heart. Rosy cheeks were stained with surrendered tears, each a cry of help, desperate to gain some genuine love and affection.

He didn't deserve this pain — not a single ounce of it.

My Tiger was destroyed on the inside. It was all because of people that didn't like him for him; clearly, not his father, his classmates, the only person he considered as a friend, and his wretched ex-girlfriend.

Harry craved love, but no one in his life gave it to him.

I noticed that there was one more person he never mentioned — and that was his mother. I wondered whether or not she was alive or if his parents were divorced. Not a single word was spoken about her; but I wasn't going to ask. Knowing that Harry found some strength inside to open up, I hoped that he would continue doing so.

Harry then broke my thoughts when he shook his head weakly. His eyes flickered back and forth between my own, desperately trying to tell me something else, but he just replied, "No, Serenity. I don't deserve you."

The hoarse tone in his voice, caused by the waterfall of tears, filled my soul with distress.

I blinked twice at his words, utterly surprised. There was so much depth beneath them what he was saying. There was also the fact that he used my actual name, not anything else. I didn't know whether or not to be hurt by him or just wanting my emotions to grow even further for him. Deep down inside, I knew it was the latter.

I knew I loved him deeply, even though he wasn't aware; but nonetheless, he still felt like he wasn't worthy enough of any form of affection.

Without warning, I pulled him up to me, flickering my eyes back and forth between his own, silently telling him how much I cared for him. Silently, I poured my feelings in buckets of never-ending tenderness.

Then, I kissed him.

I kissed him like it was my first time and my last time. I kissed him with so much passion and fervour that he wouldn't be able to comprehend it. I kissed him, telling him that I never wanted to kiss another pair of lips again. For me, it would always be Harry.

It took a few seconds for him to respond, frozen by my sudden action, but then moved up to settle himself between my legs — all without breaking our intense lip-lock. His hands travelled up my arms, to my waist, cupping my cheeks, and repeating the pattern, unsure where to place them. He was so confused with what was happening, even though he was wholly aware of his actions.

Placing my hands on the nape of his neck, I pulled him closer, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin radiate towards me. I didn't want that heat to turn into a cool breeze between us.

Giving the power of dominance, I let him lead everything, proving to him that no one could control him anymore. I needed to show him that it was okay to let his guard down and be vulnerable — that even in this state, he was still capable of having every say and making his own decisions.

With all of the power he held, he was the one who chose to be caring and passionate, rather than use our moment as an advantage to be rough and forceful. Easily, he could've taken his anger out and taken me; but, he didn't.

I would've done anything he decided, being perfectly fine with it, but I was secretly glad he was soft and ardent.

In the bottom of his heart and soul, Harry was not a cruel and unfair person like people make him out to be. He was so kind, sweet, and emotional.

Less than a handful of people knew about his love for flowers and his own little botanical garden, one that I had yet to see — if he chose to let me. No man with a cold inside would be capable of doing anything that required delicate and gentle care. You couldn't be violent with them, or they would die. They needed tenderness to be able to survive, and that's exactly what Harry gave them.

As he, too, was so incredibly compassionate and pure.

Neither of us knew how long we kissed for, but if my last breath was with Harry, I would be more than content with that. He was the air that I breathe, and I wouldn't give that up for anything or anyone else.

Slowly, his hand came back up to cup my cheek with his thumb, caressing it gently. My skin was already on fire with every touch he made. My face was flushed after such an intense kiss, I was shy and blushing in crimson.

My eyes remained closed when he parted, feeling his heavy puffs of warm air against me while we both caught our breaths. I couldn't help but show the smallest of smiles when he pressed a soft kiss on my nose, then brushing his own against mine. He gave me one last chaste kiss on my lips before he pulled away.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw him already looking at me with such adoration and affection, that I felt my heart skip a beat.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"You don't have to thank me, Harry." I shook my head just slightly with a smile. "I've told you before that you deserve the world, and everything happy. You just need to believe that you have control over everything you do, and you can do what you want. If things are meant to be, they'll fall into place — into fate."

At my words, he smiled, and shook his head — and I wasn't sure why.

"Essie, that's where you're wrong," he said, and I raised a brow in question. "You forced yourself into my life, controlling me to do things that I've never once had the courage to do. You've had so much power over me."

"I mean, there's no lies there," I spoke with a soft chuckle. "I don't want to have that power, though. I want you to be able to make your own decisions."

"I know, but I just — with you, I wouldn't have it any other fucking way."

"Really, Tiger? No other fucking way?" I teased while he smirked at my identical repeat of what he'd said.

"Definitely no other fucking way, baby," he confirmed.

"Kiss me again," I demanded.

"See, there you go again." A small laugh escaped his mouth. "Controlling me like you always do."

"I thought you said you wouldn't have it any other way."

"And like I said, it's evident that I wouldn't be able to stop, even if I tried," he lowered his voice just above a mere whisper, "And I never want to try. Don't worry, darling. You have me wrapped around your finger."

And with that, he placed his lips back on top of mine — and did exactly what I said.

♬ ✥*

Harry.

Surprise.

That's what I felt, knowing that I opened up to Essie. I never thought it was something that I'd ever be able to do with everything that happened to me.

So many people in my life caused me to be the way that I am today.

I never thought I'd cross someone like Serenity in my lifetime — someone that I could trust.

Someone that I felt safe with.

My 'serenity'.

Nonetheless, with my strength to open up and tell her about Madison, I didn't feel that weight lift off my shoulders; instead, it crashed over my entire body. Even after that passionate kiss that I shared with Essie, the one where she put all of her care towards me, something happened afterwards — weakness filled my veins.

So, that's what led me to excuse myself to go to the bathroom so I could shower; but that's not what the reason was for — I felt a panic attack coming.

She'd calmed me down once before, without even knowing the real reason; but this time, I refused to show her my utmost fragile state.

The tasteful soup that Serenity made for me, because I loved it, so I could enjoy it after a long fucking day at work. Now, however, it escaped my body from the bottom pit of my stomach was travelling through the city's pipes.

Stripping down to my naked self, I stepped under the raining water; however, it wasn't the only thing that went down the drain.

Desperate tears escaped through my fastened eyes as I chocked on sobs. I slid down the shower tiles, curling myself in the tub, hugging my body so tight that my nails dug into my flesh. The air began to suffocate me as the steam increased. With heavy breaths, I struggled to inhale the lack of oxygen that was destructing my lungs. The flip of temperature from scolding hot to frigid cold brought me back to reality. My skin burned even further at the sudden change; but either way, it didn't make a difference — flames and agony were already apart of who I am.

I wished for a different life with a proper family, one that loved me and treated me with respect — or even kindness. I pleaded for pure happiness and for a love that I wished I could have.

I never wanted her to know what happened to me several times a week, and more whenever my thoughts travelled back to my ex.

It was why I buried myself in work so that I could keep my mind busy — to keep it numb.

Trust wasn't even a factor since that disappeared from my heart ages ago.

How Serenity managed to slip herself through my concrete walls, is beyond me.

But I'm so fucking glad she did.

♬ ✥*

"So, you said that you were in the Nutcracker?" I asked her while drying my hair with a towel processing to throw it in the small laundry hamper of hers.

When I walked out of the bathroom, I pretended everything was okay, and nothing happened with me. Serenity mentioned that I took a little while longer, but I lied and said that I just needed a cold shower. The poor girl blushed, but I didn't feel smug about it; instead, I felt guilty that I wasn't honest with her.

But it was just something that I couldn't share.

I had to push all my negative thoughts behind me because I was back with my Essie.

She's my present and reality.

Her eyes gleamed at me, and I could see the surprised look in her eyes that I remembered what she said not long after we first met.

"Yeah. I was the Sugar Plum Fairy. It was one of my favourite dances that I ever got to perform in. I was so surprised they gave that part to me," she answered, handing me a cup of tea.

"Why?"

"I mean, there were a lot of other dancers