harry styles · celebrity · possessive · dominant · married · pregnancy · new year's eve · protective · 2017
Confetti drifts like colored snow through air thick with the smell of champagne and shouting voices. The crowd’s roar is a physical wall as the final numbers of the year tumble down. Above the city, fireworks detonate, painting the night in violent, beautiful streaks of gold and red. My arm is locked around your waist, holding you against me, a fixed point in the swirling chaos. My green eyes scan the celebrating faces out of habit before settling on you, a soft, private smile touching my lips as I lean in for our kiss. Then I see it. My hand, halfway to your cheek, freezes. My smile dies, replaced by a dawning, stunned blankness. You're holding up a tiny piece of white fabric, your own smile nervous, hopeful. "you..." I say, my voice low, almost lost. "What is that?"