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"You were better to me than I've been to myself
For me, there's you and nobody else

Stop and thank you baby
I want to stop and thank you baby

Oh, how sweet it is to be loved by you"


For the first time in 23 years, Today is a good day and I was excited, itching to wake up in the morning.

I snuck out of bed early, to make Harry breakfast, preparing his favourite avocado on toast but tried to make it a bit fancier for him because it was a special day.

I pan fried some sour sour dough slices in olive oil, spreading cream cheese on them, before adding the mashed avocado, some sliced cherry tomato's, roasted pepita seeds and squeezed some caramelised lemon over the top.

I was triple checking the recipe I had on my phone, hoping this will actually taste good - I mean, it looks nice, something would put on their instagram but god damn it was a lot of work for two bits of bloody toast.

I've always wanted to make breakfast in bed for someone, I use to help dad do it for my mum when I was younger, and it always looked like it made her so happy when he did it - it didn't matter if he did it every day or once a month, she would look just as surprised and appreciative each time he would stride in the room with his wide grin and boastful voice.

'Look who struck the husband jackpot, guess this is what you get when you marry a bloody legend'

It's one of my favourite memories, they were so happy.

I was happy.

When I had walked into the room, waking Harry by kicking the door open and singing loudly and obnoxiously "Go shawty! It's ya birthday! We gonna party like its a birthday!"; effectively waking Harry with a god awful fright as he snapped awake, jolting in shock like someone woke him up with an air horn; I got that same feeling when he managed to compose himself and noticed the breakfast I was holding for him.

That same happiness I got back then, fluttered and exploded in my chest when the brightest and most adoring smile broke out over his dazed face, looking like a sleepy cheerful puppy with his long hair sticking up and messed about around him.

The loud borderline pornographic groaning and muffled mouth full of food praises he gave while he ate, made it seem like I had taken him to a five star restaurant and bought him the most sought after thing in the menu, he acted like it was the best thing he had ever tasted.

My heart swelled because I knew he was being genuine, he wasn't exaggerating, he looked like he appreciated and savoured every bite just because I had made it for him, and I'll be damned if this doesn't do something to make me tumble further down the love sick rabbit hole for him.

I had asked him what he felt like doing for the day, happy to do anything he felt like, which then lead to him grabbing my arm and tugging me on top of him on the bed, having my shirt and underwear discarded in seconds before his followed.

Both of our hands were roaming and as frantic as our kissing; and I made my way down his body to improve my new skill set with blow jobs, while his hand found its way between my legs, those magical fingers literally nearly making me choke on his dick while he coaxed my orgasm from me; his own following not long after.

He announced afterwards his plans either involved no clothes or watching movies, and bless him for trying to have both at once.

Pouting and folding his arms like a toddler when I refused to sit on the couch butt ass naked to watch one of our usual movies, today it was Practical Magic again.

Unforgettable |H.S.| Harry Styles|Where stories live. Discover now