a/n: hello again. this is a triple update week, ain't it? :) a lot of you are sad about the book ending, but do not fret. this is only book one of my series. the next will include different characters, but hopefully, you will like them as much as you liked VEGAS. at the end of this book, comes BLIND and RECORD which are Liam and Niall fanfictions. are you guys ready for that? anyways, happy reading dani xo.
c h a p t e r t h i r t y
She lain awake.
Her eyes watching the sun slide its glorious sprinkle of radiance through the unsealed window. Her eyelashes fluttered every so often, and she would miss only a few seconds of the sun's performance. Much like the sun, the center of her stomach spread with such warmth, and rapidly at that. His large hand was attached to her belly, constantly rubbing the surface even through his sleep. His chest graciously touched and receded from her back as he breathed deeply through his nostrils, breath fanning against the exposed skin from her silk nightgown.
On the wide open space of the King sized bed they were in, they only managed to use the center of the mattress. She wasn't used to the luxury, but because of his position so high within the royal court, she doesn't have much of a choice. She chose to be with him, and the thousands of maids following her for her every single need over the last couple of days was pressuring, but she will get used to it. Right?
Because of the baby and the concern of her well being while leaving alone in her apartment, Harry insisted that she move into the palace. He could see her more often, and have her protected from any dangers that could harm her. She did admit her love on national television, and reporters do adore the technique of hammering a person with a thousand questions.
She didn't object, but her friends were saddened by her departure. Visiting the palace will not be as easy as knocking on her apartment door and awaiting her to swing the door agape. Even she will miss the normalities to some degree. Vegas hushed her complaints and worries about her new life, and decided to admire the moment of sharing a massive mattress with the one person she can not live without.
She leaned her head back to caress her shoulder, a sleeping Harry snoring peacefully to a tune that was harmonic to her. His faint, blushed lips were tainted with their plethora of goodnight kisses, stained with her marking and no one else's. Harry was hers, and he was no longer wed to that devil of a woman. He belonged to her. His wavy, long strands, that usually pool at his shoulders, were flipped over his forehead. A few strands across his rose, flushed cheeks. His jade orbs were hidden under his eyelids, which flickered every couple of seconds.
The markings on his inked chest will always intrigue her, enough to trace the outline as if her fingers were the diligent needle creating the artwork. Without a large amount of disturbance to him, she rotated her figure on its opposite side to snuggle closer to his warmth. She adjusted his arm to drape over her narrow shoulders as they pulled inward to the center of her frame. His skin was warm, as it usually is. Her palm caressed the ridged bumps of his abs, sinking her top row of teeth into the flesh of her bottom lip. The hand continued until it reached the surface of the flexing muscular that surrounded his neck. Vegas dived deeper into exploring his body only to her expense so delicately presented to her.
"You have a habit of admiring me when I'm sleeping, Ms. Blacke," His raspy, hushed tone murmured into the still silence. Her palm paused at her idle movements to smile simply at her lack of discreetness.
"I can't help it," Her lips communicated as she drew constant circles around the perimeter of the swallows near his collarbone. "You're like a work of art."
"Oh, thank you," He placed his free hand over his heart in a playful manner before smothering her neck with kisses. His knees were weighed down on either side of her thighs, hands beside her head as her hair sprawled out in different figurative directions. There was a peaceful and content silence, their eyes connecting intimately. His glossed over bright forest green orbs observing her as her own deep, rich brown ones fluttered repeatedly at his.
"We are finally together. No complications, no one else ruining it," He breathed, "just us."
"Just us," She reminded him, the pads of her fingers attached to his cheek as she caressed the smooth, exterior layer.
He lowered his head, nearing her lips like an train approaching a station. He parted them, making room for the missing puzzle piece of her lips to fit graciously. Vegas leaned up to meet him halfway, almost connecting-
"I'm sorry to interrupt Your Majesty, but you are needed immediately at London General Hospital. Including you, Ms. Blacke," The maid intruded, apologizing multiple times to the both of them for her interruption.
"Thank you, Reina," Harry's mood had instantly shifted. The airy happiness, that he once carried only a few seconds ago, was shattered into oblivion. They both knew that Aunt Marie was the topic of concern, and possibly withering away as they removed themselves from the mattress to clothe.
The time spent in the bathroom was quiet, the two frames brushing their teeth in front of the grand mirror that displayed their lack of emotion. Especially Harry's stone cold expression. Once they were finished, their shoes were tied and hair sorted out for the appearance of others.
"Harry," Vegas mumbled as she shifted her thick, tan jacket over her shoulders in front of the mirror.
"Hmm?" He hummed, fumbling with the tiny, frustrating buttons of his floral shirt.
"I'll be here for you," She turned to stand in front of him, and with his frustration, her fingers began to help him complete the task while speaking. "Always, my blueberry. Always."
"Thank you," Harry's heart was hefty, the imploding impact of Aunt Marie's worsen condition pressured his attempts to remain calm, and diligent as an awaiting king of England. He craved to be the man Vegas wanted to see in this time of turmoil and sorrows, but as she burnt holes into his skin from staring, the tears collected in large amounts at his lash line. They loosened, and one by one, they fell mercilessly to his flushed cheeks. They trickled to his jawline, slid to his chin, and dropping to his chest.
"Baby, come here," Her arms looped around his towering neck to lean him forward and become the support he needed. "I know it's hard. I lost my mother the day I graduated from secondary. It was incredibly difficult, but with the help of my best friend, I got through it. I'll be here for you, just like that."
Harry's weeps were uncontrollable for the first few seconds, tears dampening the material of my her black turtleneck. Her fingers combed through the locks of his rich, brown curls, soothing his uneasy mood of sadness and possibly fear. His sniffles remained, his head lifting from her chest to present his dreary, bloodshot eyes, and the reddened top of his nose. Harry's lip quivered, but as her fingers stretched out to him, she ceased the crying with a single touch to his cheek.
"You will be a mighty King. Strong, and admirable. That is all Aunt Marie wants from you," She proclaimed, "So be the king she wants you to be."
"Okay," Harry mustered up the energy to speak in a clear voice, asserting himself to clean up the disoriented appearance of his face. His posture then straightened, clearing his throat to articulate more words. "Let's go." Harry's palm swallowed hers, quilting their fingers together to greet Aunt Marie's final wishes and hear her words.
Vegas had a coherent memory of her time spent within London General. Her visits lasted for days at a time, but she wasn't too sure that's Aunt Marie would have the same result. Her eyes trailed the tile floors, reflecting the overhead lighting that blares into your eyelids. The scurry of doctors and nurses spread throughout, the disgusting smell Vegas hated whiffed into her nose violently. Her breathing calmed, focusing her undivided attention to the hospital room Harry directed her inside of.
The lights were dim, machines displaying Aunt Marie's vitals beeping at a normal pace. Her weakened body laid across the sheets, the thin layer of blankets up to the middle of her upper torso. Aunt Marie's hair was no longer there, and her pale, wrinkled skin showed the complexity of her illness. Harry stepped to her side after the flood of people surrounding her bedside parted to allow him entrance.
Despite Aunt Marie's behavior towards Vegas, she wasn't a horrible person as everyone had assumed. She held kindness within her heart, and the generosity for others was unyielding to her people. Aunt Marie was a strong believer that England should stand above all countries while establishing peace among them. And as Harry studied her condition, his heart hardened with regret at the ways he had treated her.
"Hello my Harold," Aunt Marie whispered lowly, her fragile fingers to wrap around his lengthy ones. "My, oh my, I remember when you were so young. Running around the palace like it was a playground."
"And you would scold me until I understood," He finished her recollection of his childhood, planting his bum in the cushioned seat beside her.
"Ah, but you have grown into quite the young man," She breathed, "and found love while doing that. Where's Vegas?"
Vegas, as her selfless brain instructed her, planted herself outside of the hospital room. She did not want to disturb them of their valuable time together, and because she wasn't family, she felt obligated to distract herself otherwise while scooping out the innocent patients who suffered from terminal illnesses but managed to form a simper of strength across their cheeks. Her fingers fiddled with the inside contents of her pocket, tossing around the lint she hadn't bothered to dispose of yet.
He predicted where he would find her. He knew the workings of her brain and behavioral patterns to understand her next action like it was his religion. Harry huffed under his breath, signaling Aunt Marie's assistant, since the diagnosis worsen, to head towards the hinges and find Vegas waiting there for her proper time to enter.
"Ms. Blacke, the queen would like to see you," The assistant announced, escorting Vegas inside the depressing atmosphere of Aunt Marie's final moments. Her steps were measured, her rider, leather boots pattering through the small crowd of people to arrive next to Harry's seated position.
"Vegas, you might think you are not family, when in fact, you are. Harry loves you, which means I do, even if I have not shown it correctly as I should have," Aunt Marie used a bit of her energy to pat the empty space of her bedding for her to sit. Hesitant, Vegas maneuvered to park herself firmly on the uncomfortable mattress she knew too well.
"It's okay. I understand," Vegas replied, curving her fingers to cherish Aunt Marie's lasting warmth in her palms.
"But, that does not make my actions any better. I want you to know that from the deepest part of my heart that I am sorry. I used derogatory terms several times, and attempted to destroy a love too great for this lifetime. I wish I could see the children you two will bestow upon this world, but know that I am watching from the heavens," Tears formed at the corner of her eyes, releasing to fall freely upon her pale cheeks. "Harry, stand next to her. I want to get one last look of you two."
Harry immediately followed her orders, his large hand placed to the lower region of her spine. His cheek was leaned to the top of Vegas' head, eyes weeping.
"Ah, there it is. Vegas, please take care of him. He may be stubborn, but he is kind, strong, and a wonderful human being. Harry, take care of her. She's the best thing you will," She coughed deeply, "excuse me. She is the best woman you will ever have. Do not allow her to leave you. No matter what anyone says to you."
"I won't Aunt Marie," Harry shook his head in denial, his palm sliding to circle around Vegas' waist.
"Run this country with prestige, and respect. Treat everyone the same, and be tremendous human beings," Aunt Marie advised, her eyelids growing heavy. "I love you both. . ."
"Aunt Marie, no. . ." Harry carried her palm like it was a priceless jewel. His tears dropped to the surface of her wrinkled hand, desperately begging for one last word to depart from her lips. All he needed was one more.
"It's my time to go. . ." Aunt Marie's palm cupped his tear-stained cheek, her thumb serving as a tool to wipe off the excess liquid that emptied from his eyes. "Take care of England, and Vegas. Tell your mom that I'm sorry and I love her as well. Goodbye my beautifuls. . ."
"N-no, no. . ." Harry's mind could not settle with her leaving. His heart squeezed painfully, and as the seconds of her life source were dragged from her, Aunt Marie's hand laid lifeless against his palm.
Echoes of nurses scrambling inside of the room at the blistering sound, Vegas' mind witnessing the death of a caring person, who dedicated her last moments to apologize for her wrong doings against her. Of course she had forgiven her, but as the words left her mouth, she craved for her to talk once more. One more plea, one more grip of her hand. One more of something.
Harry's screams reached new levels. Vegas wanted to help him, but her thoughts were still scattered among the atmosphere. Her heart pounded, rummaging loud paces to her ribcage. Tears would not cease from falling, and as her orbs slowing digested a nurse covering Aunt Marie's face with a white sheet, the slowed world around her doubled in speed. She felt drunk, and torn at the seams.
Aunt Marie was gone, and there was nothing more they could do to change that.
x
There was a thick silence that flattened within the palace after Aunt Marie's death. At Harry's disposal, the maids, butlers, and other employees insisted to serve him faithfully, despite their demands and duties. They did not want to add to his already unhappy soul, and push him further from acknowledging the truth. Vegas remained by his side throughout the time he was cornered by anguish, and guilt for constructing the idea of leaving Aunt Marie during her most sickening time.
The funeral wasn't any better for him. The choice for an open casket created more tears, soaking the numerous amount of tissues Vegas supplied him with. He bid her a final goodbye with a throw of his crimson rose into her grave before dirt covered the surface. Vegas promised that she would allow him to heal, and permit Aunt Marie to rest in his heart with gentle memories of her instead of the regrets he possessed.
As a few months passed, the hurt grew tolerable. Harry no longer cried before resting his head to his pillow or into Vegas' chest whenever the tears would arise. He comprehended the truth of her death, and the valuable traits she has instilled in him to run the kingdom with pride.
Early on a spring, April morning, Harry and Vegas were called to eat breakfast on the terrence of his massive bedroom with a impressive view of London's back country. The birds were chirping their heavenly song, the forest green vines that climbed on the side of the palace matching the iris shade within Harry's orbs. They were glossed with the overcast of the sun, a smile of simplicity to match his tranquil mood. The table before them was filled with plates of different cuisines that the chef has prepared of special order for Vegas' luring appetite.
Pancakes devoured most of the tiled surface, and the collection of her favorite fruits to pair. Her mouth watered at the delicious display, palms rubbing simultaneously with her tongue dampening her lips.
"The baby spikes my hunger," She told herself, clamping her palms to the metal fork below.
"Whatever you tell yourself babe," Harry pronounced, his hand stretching to massage the surface of her poking belly.
"Oh, shut it," She teased, her tongue sticking with amusement. "If I eat a lot, our baby will be nourished, and chubby. I love chubby babies!"
"As do I," He lowered his head to pepper a few delicate kisses to the exterior of her stomach, receding back to observe the selection of food on the table in front of him. "When do we think of baby names?"
"Well, I'm only three months as of right now," Her fork cut into the fluffy stack of pancakes after spreading the butter across to melt for an extra flavorful taste. "So, maybe when I'm eight months? My stomach is going to be gigantic."
"That's pregnancy, babe. You will still be extra sexy to me," His voice pressed to her earlobe as it tickled, earning a giggle.
"Even when I'm twenty pounds heavier?" She enticed.
"Yes. I will always find you unbelievably sexy," His lips placed a kiss to her temple, throwing his arm over the framing of the metal chair. He had already cut his pancakes into the sections he used to do when he was a child. He gently stabbed a pancake square with his fork, bringing the goodness to his mouth to chew and enjoy while staring into the open grasslands off the railing.
The gardeners that were employed by the royal family were tending to the colorful, assorted plot of flowers. Shades of magnolia, golden yellow, and pure white were planted among the facets of the valley. The fragrance of spring was thick in relaxation, affecting the bystanders that took a dedicated whiff.
Even with this environment, Harry remained with a startling topic on his mind that would not grant him permission to rest. It weighed in his pocket, and he couldn't quite figure out the ideal situation for it to be revealed. He thought countless nights in the last month for a solution. Not even Constantine could provide him with assistance. He thought of something extravagant, but it would only overwhelm the victim dramatically. He was confused, and he had no idea how to go about the ordeal.
"Hey," He murmured, "you know I never took you on a tour of the palace."
"Oh yeah," She chewed her paypaya with her eyebrows tensed together. "You aren't a proper host."
"Then, how about after breakfast, we take that tour?"
"Sure, but make sure you take me to the kitchen. I want to see what she's working with down there," She scooped another spoonful of fruit into his mouth, chewing as she leaned into his chest to catch the spectacular view.
x x
"Harry, my feet are killing me."
With over one hundred different rooms and sections of the palace, any tour dedicated to showcase the building and its architectural beauty aspects would be entirely too long. For anyone. Harry had brought Vegas to half of the rooms on the east wing, and hasn't bothered to stop for a bathroom break for his pregnant girlfriend. He was too caught up with informing her of the facts that pair with the arrangement of rooms to notice her wobbling knees and hand against her pressured spine.
"Okay, last room for today, I promise," his steps countered towards her, cultivating her hand with his. He led her between two overseeing doors, embroiled with gold carvings. Majority of the room was painted and decorated with the carmine shade in mind, the intense color of the both the carpet and walls colliding for a dramatic appearance.
There were two statues placed on either side of the identical throne chairs: one of a structure lady, clothed in draped material, and the other of a broad shouldered man firm with a sword drawn. The high ceiling covered with paintings fascinated her, eyes glazing over the fixtures and lightning. Her gleam radiated for miles, her sneakers careful not to knock herself into something and ruin the entire room.
"This room is amazing," She gawked, mouth wide with gasp releasing from them, "What is this?"
"It's a throne room. Where we sometimes have events, where the king and queen must sit up there." His lengthy finger pointed, his other hand grabbing onto hers to pull her forward onto the platform.
"Harry, should we even be up here?" She quivered slightly with nervousness, eyes scooping for anyone watching them.
"Who is going to tell us different? I am soon to be king, ya know," He shrugged his shoulders, plopping to the King's dedicated chair. His ankle met his opposite leg's knee, leaning back with authority washing over his bones. "Sit with me."
"I don't know," She blinked, "it's only for the queen."
"Well, you're right. I do often think I need a queen to keep me in line. Constantine doesn't do a good job," He scoffed at his butler's lack of guidance, then gazed towards her.
"Constantine is good man," She scolded, patting his cheek playfully.
"But most of the time, you do see a king and queen together. Unless she is deceased, or he is in desperate need of one," He pointed out, casually shrugging. "I'm in need of one."
"I don't know where you are going with this."
"Vegas, I love you. I love you to the moon and back, possibly even further. That day you came to my house, I knew exactly how much I needed you to be in my life. I knew I had to be persistent in order to get you. And, here we are today: perfectly perfect for each other in all the right ways, and I've never been happier. Through the time of Aunt Marie's death, I saw a strong woman that was able to get me through one of the hardest times in my life," He continued, "I want you to be the mother of my children, my queen to rule alongside of me, and my wife to wake up beside every morning. I could say a million words and I'm sure you will be here all night."
His knee buckled from the chair, sticking his massive hand into his pocket for the silver ring as it sparkled along the lights of the throne room.
Her heart clenched, tightening into a grasp that wouldn't allow her to catch her breath. She brought her hands to her mouth, gasping with surprise at the huge ring in front. The band housed three diamonds, two on opposite sides, and a tear drop shaped pink diamond that stood out to her as a beautiful gem. Tears formed like it was of second nature, sliding down the curve of her cheeks.
"Will you marry me?" Harry's voice declared, his frame unsure of her response of the surprising question.
"Yes, yes, yes!" She circled her arm around his neck, lips pressed together in celebration and delicately kissing with the absence of organization. They kissed with fury, but a fury of love.
"Wait til I call Gemma, Charley, Piper, and Ashton!" She leapt from the ground several times, admiring the curvature of the ring. "Liam is going to be so excited. . ."
"I know you can't call your mom, but would you like to call mine? She's still really excited to finally meet you," Harry held her lingering hand, tilting his head to the side.
"Of course! I need my phone to call. Ooh, Charley should be our wedding planner," She suggested.
"She's a wedding planner? For a living?" He asked, supporting her back region as he assisted her down the small number of steps.
"Yes, and I've seen her work. It's going to be beautiful. Hey Reina!" Vegas scurried off to tell the maid of her excitement, the flaps of his flannel flying in the wind behind her.
He could hear the echoes of their screams, a smile arising on his lips.
Harry was happy, simply graced upon with joy. His head tilted to the sky, hands stuffed in his jeans' back pocket before his lips divided.
"I proposed Aunt Marie. She loves the ring, and I think she will make an honest, and beautiful queen. I love you, and miss you," Harry breathed, feet stepping to escort himself out and continue hearing Vegas' screams of happiness.
For what it's worth, he'll take this outcome over Switzerland. Any day.
x x x
okay! one more chapter and then the epilogue! i can't wait to write the next chapter. it's going to be a good ending to this love story, don't you think?
anyway, comment your thoughts about the chapter and don't forget to vote! ive reached #179 in fanfictions because you guys are so amazing!
lets try and make it to the top! how about it?
speaking of which, do you ever think this would turn into a movie? im not turning into After or anything, but it'll be nice to have a different book with a POC, ya know?
well, for now, please vote and comment!
happy reading,
dani xo.