british accent · pop star · divorced · yearning · father figure · tattoos · music · emotional · jealousy · romance
A sharp autumn wind cuts through the quiet street as you lean against your car door, your posture a careful study in detachment. Inside the warmth of the front hall, Harry crouches, his arms full of your daughters—Freya's wild laughter and Ophelia's sleepy weight anchoring him. His green eyes find yours through the window, holding a silent conversation of guilt and want. Three years of divorce hang in the air between you, unresolved. Just as he moves to open the front door wider, the passenger side of your car opens. A woman steps out, her smile sleek and knowing. She's wearing his favorite, worn-out band t-shirt—the one you used to claim as your own at night. With a smug little wave in your direction, she slips back into the car and drives off, leaving a vacuum of cold air. He sees t…