My three words have two meanings. There's one thing on my mind, it's all for you

DOUBLE UPDATE, THIS IS THE FIRST ONE.

"God, Harry, you need to-," She moans mid-sentence. "Just a little bit." Another strangled sound leaves her lips. "You need to help Sunshine, come one." I push on. The curl that fell out of my tied hair sticks to my forehead. My back is digging into the wood. 

She inhales loudly when I push as hard as I can. "It's, shit, I'm going to- Harry." She falls right onto her ass with a surprised yelp as the bookshelf moves further than she anticipated. 

She leans forward, wiping the sweat off her brow. "Jesus, old furniture is heavy." She says out of breath.  We finally manage to push the old bookshelf in its place. 

It takes up almost the entire wall, and my hands are itching to fill them with our book collection. "It's beautiful," I say to her, looking down. "Yea, so glad we found it." She's been buzzing the whole day. Excitement radiates through her since we woke up this morning. 

She was jumping on the bed like a little kid, shouting 'we're moving' over and over again. It took two cups of tea and a whole joint to calm her down slightly. For me, I was the one who drank the tea and smoked the joint.  

It's late afternoon, and we've managed to get a good chunk of it done. Our friends helped with the heavy stuff but left a couple of hours ago. We still have to sort the kitchen, but for now, we can live here.

We have a fucking house. It's still mind-boggling; how can we be so lucky? I may never have been able to afford to buy a home.

My phone rings in my back pocket. "Hi, momma," I answer. "Harry." She breaths, relieved to hear my voice. She explained it to me once. She told me her worst nightmare is me not answering, laying somewhere already dead or very close. 

I blame it on the stunt I pulled on them, just cutting them off completely. She blames it on being a mother. 

I went home for a while, once I was nice and cleaned up. I visited them for a month. She used to just sit with me for hours in silence, I'd break down and tell her things, and she'd just hold me, calming me down to the point where I fell asleep.

She's an angel too, like Aliza. They all are; they took me in without hesitation—a teenager with anger issues. There's a special place in heaven for them. I wish I could see them more, I contemplated moving back to London before Aliza, but something stopped me from making the final decision. 

Something was Aliza. 

"Harry, can you hear me?" Oh shit. "No, mum, you broke up, say again." I fibbed. I move to sit on the couch. "I said, how are you? How's Aliza?" She asks again. "I'm good. We're good. She's still perfect, can't wait to meet you." I tell them cause it's true. She's been asking me when we'll see them. 

"Oh Harry, can't believe you found her again. It's so amazing. What are your plans for Christmas?" She asks. "You should come here, see the house," I tell her without thinking. "Well, that's a wonderful idea; I'll talk to Gemma and dad and let you know. Are you moved in yet?" She asks.

Aliza is currently pushing a huge box to the bookshelf. She's crouched down and pushing it with her back, her feet slipping on the wooden floor. It looks comical. 

She's red in the face from struggling. "Harry?" My mam asks again. "Yea, sort of. Unpacking the small stuff. Mum, gotta go. I think Aliza's gonna break her back." I say. Aliza's head shoots up, and she huffs at me. 

I ring off with a final goodbye and stand to help her. She drags the box, and I push it for her. "Thank you." She kisses me sweetly and busies herself with stocking the shelf. I hand her books, and it's something small but seeing our books mixed on the shelf gives me a little kick in the heart.

"I kind of invited my parents for Christmas," I say, slightly nervous. I hand her another book. "Great! I can't wait, you can bake, and I'll cook, your mom and sister can help too. I can't make Christmas food, but I'll look it up. They can sleep upstairs; I'll get the room ready for them. We need to get a tree too, a big one! we'll have a big old family Christmas." She rushes out. 

Her eyes go wide. "I mean not that it's my family. It's just the first time-" I cut of her frantic ranting. "Sweets." I pull her over the box and into my arms. "They're gonna be your family too." I pick up her hand, and she wiggles her fingers, giggling as she does. "Let them meet me first, then we'll see." She tells me. "Nope, gonna love you," I argue. 

I kiss her a little frantically. "Books." She mumbles but doesn't pull away. "No," I whine like a two-year-old. "Books." She whispers again when I pull away slightly. "NO! Writing my own story." I laugh into her mouth. 

***

"Pookie!" Aliza runs around the corner; she slips on her socked feet. The wine in the glasses she's carrying sloshes almost over the edge, but she rights herself. I'm laughing at the whole thing from the couch. 

"Pookie?" I ask her as she sits down next to me. "Yea, Pookie, what I wanted to say is we're in our house." She says excitedly. Her eyes are enormous right now, and she's vibrating next to me. "I know! How crazy is this?" She nods her head. "Very crazy, amazingly crazy!" She says. She takes a sip of wine.  She leans in for a quick kiss. "Thank you, Harry."

"Imagine all the possibilities that lie between these walls." She says after a minute. "They're pretty endless." I agree with her. 

"We can get married in the field, I'll wear an old white dress, and you can wear, well, whatever you want. Will you get married to me if I'm in an old white dress?" She points outside to the field. It's the one I painted on a wall.
"Course I will, doesn't matter what we wear," I say.
"We'll adopt a dog," I say. "He'll pull out all the flowers around the house, but we'll love him too much to be mad." She nods, her hand clutching mine tightly. She's swaying from the excitement.

"We can have huge family dinners, with all our friends and your parents and all the friends we'll make along the way. They'll bring their dogs and children, and they'll play with us. Oh, Harry!" She shouts the last part and falls into me.

Her now empty glass falls between us. Her shoulders are shaking viciously. She's crying. She howls into my side, and I wrap myself around her. I shift us, so we're lying on the couch. "Too much?" I ask, and she nods, still crying into my shoulder. 

We're not allowed to think like this. When you're a child without parents, you can't let yourself think like this—seeing all the things that are now normal for her that she's allowed to feel and experience is a shock to the system. 

"My little mush monster," I tell her, and she lets out a soft giggle. I look out the big window. It's enough to make me emotional as well. I'm an orphan since birth. It doesn't matter that I got adopted and now have a great family. The point is I was without parents for sixteen years, longer than with. 

The silent tears fall as I reflect how far I've come, how lucky I got. How much I need to be thankful for. I have a house and an Aliza. We have a hypothetical dog and children. I place my chin on her head. 

She's my dreamer. She makes things live. She makes things bloom. She moves through the world at full speed. She dances, or she runs; she doesn't know how to walk. I'm just glad she's taking me along. 

"It's not going to end." She says softly. "This thing, this joy. I'll kill us both if it does." I pull her back, shocked at her proclamation. "Little dark Sunshine," I tell her. Her face is red and her under eyes are puffy. So fucking beautiful. She shrugs. "Mush monster doesn't care." She falls back into me, laughing now. 

***

"First dinner." She says as we sit at the dining table. She's been taking photos of everything today. She's usually not one for pictures, and she doesn't even own a cellphone. She hates technology. She's doing it for a reason. She's doing it, so there's proof, for one day when we're old and forgot about it. 

There's a bunch of Wisteria lying on the middle of the table that she wanted to put in a vase, but she got distracted... Welcoming. She doesn't believe me when I tell her she has magic when it comes to flowers. She thinks it's hard work, and she's right, but there's something else. 

Her flower shop is never empty, she knows which flowers to give to who, and she always has the specific flowers she needs. I don't believe in such big coincidences. She's healing people through her flowers, and she doesn't even know. 

"You're far away." She says. I look at her and take another bite. "Just thinking, love." I smile, and she returns it. "We should invite everyone for Christmas?" She says. "Yea, we can ask; whoever doesn't have plans can join ours." I agree, taking a sip of wine. She nods, satisfied with my answer. 

"So, while we're on the subject. How do we do Christmas gifts?" She asks. "I don't need anything," I tell her. "You build me a house; I don't need anything either." She says, smiling. I'm going to have to see about the whole dog thing sooner than I thought.

"Gonna get you something anyway." I let her know. She scoffs. "No, now there's pressure. Nooooo gifts Harry Styles!" She points her fork at me. That's somewhat scary. I lift my hands in surrender. "Sure," I say, wide-eyed. "Good." Gonna buy her something anyway. 

Her eyes find the Wisteria on the table. "Wisteria when you're gone." She sings under her breath. I nearly choke on my bite when she changes the lyric of one of Def Leopards songs.

We go for a walk around sunset, and it's beautiful because the moon is bright and there's a lot of stars tonight. She dances around me, pulling me to show me something interesting now and then.  We stand in the field where the sunflowers use to be. 

It's bare now, from the winter. The day feels like years ago when she stood in front of the flowers in awe, with Bare feet and shorts that matched the sunflowers. 

Her hair was a lot shorter than now but still as shiny. It's grown out; it falls past her shoulders. 

Her presence so entrapped me—a nervous ball of atoms. I knew I'd marry her then like I do now. I loved her since I was nine and then since the day I saw her again. 

We sit at the pond until the sun is gone and it's freezing outside. Both of us are cold, but we don't want to break the serenity of the moment. Being with Aliza is always special, but some moments stand out more than others.

For the most part, she's fearless and passionate about everything in life. She has her days when the world gets a little dark, but they're far and few.

Days like today, she's just absolutely on top of the world. She can do anything she sets her mind to. There's no hidden nervousness or subtle hits of being scared. 

The goosebumps litter my skin as we sit and absorb the quietness. Her cracked heels dig into the top of my thighs to balance herself as she sits on my knees. 

I'm resting against the Willow, slightly swaying my knees from side to side, and she moves along, giggling now and then. The only lights are the stars and the twinkling lights we hung in the Willow. It's throwing a warm glow on her face. 

She has such a carefree smile on her face. "You once said that you'll always remember me from that night. I wanna remember you like tonight." I tell her. "How is that?" She asks. "Fearless I whisper, and she smiles.