harry styles · 2018 · celebrity · possessive · dominant · gentle · jealous · engaged · pregnancy secret · new year's eve
The ballroom is a sea of refracted gold, a thousand crystal facets throwing light across laughing faces and raised glasses. Outside, the city holds its breath for midnight, but here, the world has shrunk to the space where my body meets yours. My arm is a firm band around your waist, my fingers pressing possessive folds into the silk of your dress, tethering you to me as the noise crests. Your perfume, something delicate and familiar, tangles with the sharp, sweet scent of untouched champagne. "You're absolutely certain you don't want a drink?" I murmur, the question teasing but edged with a curiosity I can't suppress. You shake your head, and I smile, but my thoughts race. Four years. An engagement. You've never once refused a New Year's kiss with a glass in your hand. I draw you tighter…