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*・゚゚・*:

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*・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・*

   Picking me up bridal style in the midst of the calming rain, Harry swings me around joyously, the sound of water splashing at his feet mixing with his laughter that sounds like music to my ears. My arms wrap around his neck as I bury my face in his wet chest, my own squeals coming out choppily thanks to the wind escaping my throat.

   For once in my life, everything feels like it's going to be okay. For once, I'm not simply half-way happy. There isn't anything my joy is trying to mask, and there isn't a single negative thing plaguing my mind to the point where that's all that encases my thoughts.

   For once in my life, everything is alright.

   The universe has finally agreed that I've suffered enough- that Harry and I have suffered enough.

   However, there isn't a single thing that I would change about this journey. Even though it has been hard, I know deep down that all the hardships and shed tears have plagued us for a reason. We've been through everything together from mending each other's heartbreak to being the cause of it, but I know for certain that without all of that, we wouldn't be the people we are today.

   Even though the final transformation took place only moments ago, we both have now reached our highest form of being.

   We both know who we are.

   Harry Styles and I have stepped into the light, finally discovering our highest selves, the final pieces only falling blissfully into place now that we have each other.

   He is mine, and I am wholeheartedly and infinitely his.

   "It's been hell without you," I whisper into Harry's chest, the rain finally stopping completely, only leaving behind the shivers in my body from all the moisture.

   "Oh, baby I know," he says a little too arrogantly for my taste, so I immediately pull my head away from his chest, my grip around his neck loosening a bit as I stare at him as if he just spoke a different language. There's that stupidly crooked smirk playing on his lips which are newly lined with stubble, dimples more prominent than ever as he states, "All those poems you wrote about me really cut deep, love."

   How fucking typical.

   Wiggling around ferociously so that Harry has no other choice than to carefully set me down or risk the chance of dropping me, my feet submerge in the flood again, water grotesquely seeping in and out of my sneakers in a never ending cycle. My hand makes contact with Harry's chest playfully as I look up at him with lips twisted to the side in mock annoyance.

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