I will bring you the mountains

Write your name 'cross the sky

Anything that you need I will try to find

So won't you take my hand, take my heart

Promise to never stop dancing once we start

~*~*~*~*~*~

Friday, March 24, 2020.

I still stiffened a little every time I woke up naked in Henry's arms—even after two full weeks of being together—flashing back to that dreadful morning four months ago. But we slowly worked through our issues together. He'd so far kept his promise of reassuring me of his love for me every day, even that one day where he was swamped with meetings all day and I was busy on set. We hadn't seen each other at all that day, but he'd still called me every free moment he'd had (which mildly annoyed Alona from time to time). And things were getting better every day. This morning, I hardly even gave it a second thought.

On the contrary, actually. I smiled and snuggled a little closer to him. He was still asleep, but even then he still tightened his arms around me. My ear was pressed over his heart, and it beat steadily. It had become one of my favorite sounds over the past few days.

I lifted my head and pressed a soft kiss to his chest. When that didn't wake him up, I smirked and inched a little higher, kissing just under his collarbone. When that didn't work either, I felt myself get a little bolder and went even higher, kissing his neck. I gently bit into a spot that I knew was sensitive, and sure enough, he moaned. My smile grew as I licked sensually up to his earlobe.

"Ugh, Juliette, don't do that," Henry moaned, his hands taking hold of my waist, his fingers digging into my back. "You know what that does to me."

I grinned. "Oh, I know. But I had to get you awake somehow, right?"

"You're evil, Juliette Morrison. Have I ever told you that?" he asked with a grin, sitting up. As he did, he forced me to sit up as well, as I was basically lying on top of him. Now I was sitting on his lap, my legs circling his waist.

"As a matter of fact, yes, you have."

"And yet I still love you."

"It must be real then," I said, smiling as I tangled my fingers in the curls at the back of his head.

"Speaking of it being real..." he said, his grip tightening on my waist. "We've kind of been living in a bubble these past two weeks—which have been amazingly great, don't get me wrong—but I still haven't met your friends yet. You talk about them all the time, and I'm honestly getting a little curious."

"I could arrange for you to meet them," I told him, perking up. "Tonight even, if you'd want to."

Clearly taken aback by that, his eyes widened. "Tonight? Oh. Wow, that's fast."

"I know. But I haven't really seen them in a while, and I could just tell them that I'm throwing a party tonight. You know, we could watch horror movies, play drinking games... And they'll love you, I'm sure of it."

"Uh... If you're really sure, then why not. Let's throw a party tonight."

I grinned. "Yay! And I'm sure you'll love them too. Beware of Keegan, though."

Henry's brow furrowed. "Beware of Keegan... why?"

"He's very welcoming. If you know what I mean. He gets a little... touchy. A little grabby. He might slap you on the butt, grab your man boobs... That sort of thing."

He laughed. "My man boobs?"

I grinned. "And I can't blame him. They're fine man boobs," I said, my hands sliding down to his pectorals. His chest hair ticked my palms.

His hands slid up my back, pulling me even closer to him. "You... are a piece of work, Morrison."

Smirking, I said, "I know. So are you, Cavill."

I brought my hands back up to his hair and, twisting my fingers in his curls, I bent my head, my lips capturing his. He smiled into the kiss, softly sucking on my bottom lip. Kissing him was still as magical as the first time, even though there had been dozens of kisses after that one. It wasn't just because he was a skilled kisser (because, obviously, he totally was), but also because of the way he made me feel. I could be kissing the best kisser in the whole world, and I still wouldn't feel anything. Only Henry could bring that warm, fluttery feeling about in me. I guess I really did love him.

So when I pulled away again, I did it slowly, reluctantly. "I should probably let my friends know they're going to a party tonight."

Henry smiled. "I guess you should."

I leaned over to my nightstand to grab my phone. I unplugged it, knowing the charger was too short to make it. I quickly typed up a text in our group chat, letting them know I was throwing a party so they could all meet Henry. Naturally, they were all more than willing to come tonight. It wasn't every day they met Superman (though, in L.A., you never knew when one could suddenly cross your path), and it definitely wasn't every day they met my boyfriend for the first time. Whom, incidentally, they'd been talking about for a year now.

"Most of them have RSVP'd already," I said when I put my phone away. "Just the late risers that I'm still waiting on."

"All right," Henry said, his smile widening. "And what will we do in the meantime?"

"Shower and get ready for the day. There's lots to be done if we want to throw that party tonight. We need to get food, we need to get liquor, we need to get the house drunk-proof... Like I said, we're gonna be busy."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping down. "Fine."

I smirked. "I never said we couldn't shower together, though."

He grinned back at me. "Now we're talking." He got out of bed and threw me over his shoulder, carrying me over to the bathroom as I giggled uncontrollably. Hanna had stayed over at Scott's place and would be there for the remainder of the day, at least until the party, and part of me was glad about that. It meant that Henry and I had privacy, which was a rarity in this house—and also the main reason that this was only the second time we'd spent at my place instead of his. Hanna and I had kind of an unspoken agreement that we would stay out of each other's hair when the other was with their boyfriend, at least until this thing with Henry started feeling a little more normal—a little bit realer still.

As he was shampooing my hair, he suddenly asked, "Hey, do you know what I've been craving for literally months now?"

I shook my head, keeping my eyes closed for fear of accidentally getting rose-scented shampoo in my eyes. "No. What?"

"That ice cream we ate at your grandparents' last November."

I laughed. When Henry and I had eaten dinner at my grandparents' when we were visiting all those months ago, my grandmother had whipped out the ever-loved stroopwafel ice cream. "That's pretty random, but okay. It isn't sold anywhere in America, though. Not that I know of, at least. I'm pretty sure it's just a Dutch thing. Maybe Belgian, too, but I can't be sure."

"Oh," he said, and though I couldn't see his face, the disappointment was clear in his voice. "I kind of already figured."

"But," I started slowly, turning around so I could rinse the shampoo out of my hair, "I'm pretty sure there should be a recipe somewhere online. I have an ice cream maker, so there's that. And my grandmother sent over a recipe and a special waffle iron a few years ago because she knows how much I love stroopwafels. I never ended up using it, though, so I have no idea if it will even work out."

"You could always try, though, right?" Henry asked, his face hopeful.

I laughed again. "You're cute. And sure. I'll try. Don't get your hopes up, though. It's entirely possible I fuck up tremendously. Cynthia is the one in the group who's good with baking. She owns her own pastry shop, you know."

"I didn't know, actually. Is it doing well?"

"Incredibly well," I said, nodding. "No surprise, with how good her cupcakes are. And oh my God, you should try her red velvet cakes. So good!" Then I laughed, remembering who we were talking about. "Be gentle with her, though. She'll probably freak out when she meets you. She's a typical fangirl. You should see the text she sent me when those pictures from our shopping date last year came online. She couldn't even form words."

Henry laughed. "Uh-oh."

"She's really nice, though. Obviously. She's my friend for a reason."

"Well, I'm excited to meet her. Or any of your other friends, for that matter."

I grinned. "Not as much as they are to meet you."

When we finished up in the shower, I cooked us a quick breakfast while Henry took Kal on a short walk. Once that was done, we drove up to the local supermarket to do some grocery shopping.

"Don't look now," Henry whispered shortly after we'd exited the car and were walking towards the supermarket's entrance, "but there's a paparazzo over there."

It took everything within me not to freeze. Only the people closest to us and most people on set knew we were together. Somehow—magically—the press hadn't figured it out yet. Personally, I was fine with letting the world know we were a couple, but I had no idea how Henry felt. "Oh," I managed. "What do you want to do about it? I mean, I know you're a very private person."

"Is that what you're worried about?"

"What are you talking about? I'm not worried."

Henry smiled. "Honey. You're nearly pulverizing my hand."

I quickly let go of his hand. "Oh. Sorry."

He took my hand in his again and tugged, making me stop short. "Stop worrying," he said with a relaxed smile. I figured he'd be tense with paparazzi so close by, but he was perfectly at ease. "I'm completely fine with the world knowing we're together. Actually..." His smile widened as he pulled me closer, his head dipping down so he could kiss me. He kissed me softly and only for a few seconds, but it was enough for the paparazzo to take some pictures of. I heard the shutter go off even from quite a distance away. "Actually," he said again, "I kind of feel like screaming it from the rooftops."

I smiled back at him. "You're an idiot, Cavill." To show him I didn't really mean the insult, I pecked him on the lips. Then, finally, we went into the supermarket—we'd kind of been hogging the entrance.

"So, what do we need for the ice cream?" Henry asked.

"Well, I've got the basics for normal waffles at home, so let me just check for my grandmother's recipe for the other ingredients I need for the stroopwafels and I'll look online for recipes for the ice cream itself. In the meanwhile, we'll just look for other stuff we need for tonight. Speaking of, what do you want for dinner tonight?"

Pushing the grocery cart he'd grabbed earlier with one hand, he wrapped his other arm around my waist, pulling me close. "You know what? Why don't we just order in for tonight? We already have enough to do to set up for the party, and we'll be making the ice cream. Let's not add any more work to our plates by cooking."

I smiled at him. "We?" I asked.

He smiled back at me. "Well, yeah. We're a team now, aren't we?"

"But still. I know plenty of guys who would say 'we're a team' and then continue to let the woman do all the cooking and party setup. And then they'll also expect a seven-layer dip for poker night with their buddies."

Henry laughed. "I don't like poker. If I'm gambling, it's blackjack. And what the hell is seven-layer dip?"

"It's this dip for tortilla chips, with, like, sour cream, guacamole, cheese, salsa, beans... Very Tex-Mex."

"I see. Well, either way, I'm not like that. In a relationship with me, everyone carries their own weight. Besides, cooking together is fun."

"Have we ever even cooked together?" I asked as I threw a couple bags of chips in our cart.

"No," Henry said. "But making ice cream together is kind of like cooking, right? In a way?"

I giggled. "It's more like baking. But that's close enough. Anyway, what do you want for dinner? Pizza? Chinese? Thai, Mexican?"

"Ugh, so many options. Let's just go with pizza."

"Good choice," I said with a laugh. "That's usually my and Hanna's go-to takeout dinner as well. We basically live off of pizza."

"So would you say it's your favorite food?" Henry asked as he lifted a crate of beer into our cart. "Pizza, I mean?"

I gave him a sheepish smile. "Probably, yeah. I could eat it again and again and I'll never get sick of it. Same with maple glazed donuts. But you knew that already."

He laughed. "I do, yes. I remember when someone would get donuts and you'd get pissed, as if they did it specifically just to piss you off, and then you'd angrily bite into one. I always thought you looked so cute whenever that happened. I may or may not have told Ryan to let the catering order in maple glazed donuts more often."

I stopped dead in my tracks, my face indignant. "You did what now?"

Amused, he said, "I'm sorry. You just looked so incredibly cute. I had to see that adorable face again. And then again. And again. I mean, can you really blame me?"

I laughed and punched his arm—not that I could ever inflict any physical damage on him (except maybe when it came to tickling). "You're such a dick sometimes, Cavill."

He grinned cheekily. "I've never heard you complain about it before."

I laughed loudly, throwing my head back. I probably attracted more attention than I would've liked, but when Henry Cavill makes a sexual joke, you've got to revel in it fully. "Oh my God, Henry. Let's just go and find the maple syrup." I shook my head, still smiling. "Christ."

"You know you love me," he said, his grin widening.

"Getting cocky now, huh?" I said, grinning back at him.

Fighting off laughter, he asked, "Was that an intended pun?"

"Not really, but hey, don't look a gift horse in the mouth," I joked. I grabbed a bottle of syrup and threw it in the cart. "Now come on, I need a shitload of butter, and an even bigger shitload of sugar to caramelize."

"You don't have sugar back home?"

"Well, yes, but just enough for the dough. I need quite a bit for the special syrup."

"Can't you just—I don't know—put regular syrup in-between the waffles?"

I faked a shocked gasp. "Sacrilege!" I called out. "But really, though. There are many Dutchies that would've slapped you just for saying that."

He laughed. "Sorry. But just out of curiosity, what does go into the syrup?"

I checked my phone again for the list of ingredients. "Caramelized sugar, cream, regular syrup, cinnamon and butter."

"Cream in the syrup? Huh."

"Hey, I never said Dutch food was healthy. Actually, I warned you about that when we were in the Netherlands. Everything is either deep fried or stuffed full of sugar and butter. Hardly ever both, though, I don't think—unless it's New Year's—so at least there's that."

"And yet you're so skinny. Just... how?"

I shrugged. "Don't know. I've never really had that problem, thankfully. And besides, I have been working out a lot lately, for the movie."

"True," Henry said as he threw in two sticks of butter. "But you've thankfully gained some weight since one and a half month ago. When I saw you again after all those months... Honestly, I was terrified. You looked so skinny, and I was so scared that you'd finally started listening to your aunt."

I looked at him in surprise. "You were afraid I had an eating disorder?"

Henry shrugged awkwardly. "Well, yes. I mean, a lot of the comments she made were about you 'needing to watch your figure'—which has always been fucking ridiculous, if you ask me—and I know how much of a strain her judgment is on you, so yes, I feared... And then that first day of training, during lunch, you only wanted a salad, so... I know it's probably stupid and I'm way over the line in telling you this, but yes."

"No... No, I think it's sweet that you would worry. And you were probably right to some extent. I had lost some weight, but that was mostly because I was in a pretty dark place and I never really felt like eating, plus the stress made me lose even more weight. So I probably did look a little malnourished."

Henry looked deeply sad as he hesitantly asked, "Were you... Were you in a dark place because of... because of me?"

"I mean, I was definitely stressed about that, but most of it came from Vince."

"I've heard some serious horror stories about him. Did he ever do anything to you? Because if he did, I swear..." He didn't finish the sentence, but it was pretty clear where he was going with it.

I grimaced uncomfortably. "I'd rather not talk about it. Not here, at least. Maybe I'll tell you when we're at home."

He nodded slowly. "Okay."

We finished up at the grocery store and loaded everything into the car. As we did, that same paparazzo was still there, still taking pictures. I didn't really mind it all too much, though, mostly because he stayed quiet; he didn't shout questions out at us, like many other paparazzi would've.

When everything was loaded up, I turned to Henry with a grin. "And now for the best trip of the day: The liquor store."

He chuckled. "That does indeed sound like a pretty good trip. But when we're done there, do you think we could maybe swing by my hotel? I want to grab some clean clothes for tonight and some stuff for Kal."

"Sure, no problem. Don't feel like you have to pick anything fancy, though. We aren't really like that."

"I know. But I know you, and you'll probably get flour or caramel all over me," he joked with a grin.

I knew I should be offended, but the problem was that I probably would. "Yeah... Sorry."

As I started the car and drove out of the supermarket's parking lot, he said, "Eh, don't worry about it. I love that you're clumsy. It adds to your charm."

I just smiled and shook my head, continuing to drive towards the nearest liquor store.

A little less than an hour later we had everything we needed, so we geared up to make stroopwafels in the kitchen. I cleared some space on the kitchen counter, cleaning it before we started. I grabbed my phone to check the recipe. "Okay, it says here that we need to mix the flour with the sugar on the counter, and then once that's done, you make a hole in the mixture, so you kind of have a ring of flour and sugar, and then you can add the butter, eggs and just a twinge of salt and cinnamon inside that ring."

"All right..." Henry followed the instructions perfectly, then looked at me for more instructions. "And then?"

"Um... First mix the eggs and butter and stuff, and then slowly add in the flour and sugar. Then you just mix everything together until it's a nice, smooth mixture."

I helped him mix it, and laughed when he held up his egg-covered fingers for me to see. "Somehow, I always love and hate this part," Henry said. "I used to help my mother out when she baked cookies, and I always loved getting my hands dirty. But then after, it's like you can still feel the butter everywhere."

"I know what you mean. But it's nothing a little warm water can't fix, thank God." About a minute later, we were done kneading the dough. "All right, now this needs to go in the fridge for half an hour, and in the meanwhile we'll work on the syrup."

I started on slowly caramelizing the sugar bit by bit, and Henry looked on in concern. "Are you sure you should be the one doing this? Maybe I should be the one dealing with such high temperatures."

I laughed. "I've done this before, Henry; don't worry. Why don't you go heat up five tablespoons of cream and five tablespoons of maple syrup in a pan?"

"All right. But be careful, okay?"

I smiled. His concern was so cute. "Don't worry, I will."

Half an hour later, we'd mixed his cream and syrup with my caramel and added cinnamon and butter, and the dough was good to be taken out of the fridge. "This smells really good, Jules," Henry said. "I gotta say, I'm so glad I mentioned it this morning."

Laughing, I said, "I'll bet. You sure lucked out with me."

He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close so he could kiss the top of my head. "I sure did." Releasing me again, he said, "Okay, what now?"

"Now we divide the dough in parts of about fifteen grams each, so about... this," I said, tearing a piece off. "Then you roll it into a ball, press it flat a little so it looks like a miniature hamburger, and then put it in the waffle maker. When you close it, apply a bit of pressure to make the waffle even thinner and then keep it in for about a minute. Once you have two waffles, put syrup on one and press the other on top of it. Press as long as you need to get syrup everywhere." As I spoke, I performed all the actions myself until I had a complete stroopwafel. "There we go," I said, grinning proudly as I held it up. "A stroopwafel."

We continued making the stroopwafels and then I made the ice cream mixture on the stove. Once that was done, I put it in the fridge to cool for two hours. As that was cooling, Henry helped me clean the living room.

Halfway through, I turned to him. "Hey, why don't you take Kal on a long walk? That poor dog has been inside all morning."

"Getting sick of me already?" Henry asked with a grin.

"No. But I think Kal's getting a little stir crazy inside."

Henry looked at Kal just as he rolled onto his back and released a sound that was a sort of mix between a growl and a moan, making the both of us laugh. "Okay, yes, maybe. Are you sure you'll be all right in here, though, baby? I mean, I don't want to make you clean all by yourself."

I smiled at his use of 'baby.' The first time he'd called me that, I'd kind of frozen. It had just been another sign that we really are a couple, and it had made me feel all warm and bubbly inside. It still did. "You aren't. I mean, you've helped a lot already. Besides, vacuuming would be a lot easier with Kal out of the house."

"True enough. Kal doesn't really like vacuums."

And so Henry took Kal out for a walk and I continued to clean the living room. When I was done, he still wasn't back and the two hours were up, so I got the ice cream mixture out of the fridge and put it in the ice cream maker, turning it on. As it rotated, I got myself a glass of caffeine-free Coke. Just as I took my first sip, the doorbell rang. Thinking I should probably just get him a key, I set my glass down on the counter and opened the door, letting Henry and Kal inside.

"You sure did take a long walk."

"I didn't want to bother you," Henry said, taking off Kal's collar and leash. "Besides, Kal seemed to like the park, and I ran into a few fans."

"Oh, now I wish I had been there. It's always so cute when fans meet you for the first time. They get all flustered, and then you get all flustered and try to make them feel at ease... It's adorable."

"They did ask about you, though," he said, choosing to ignore the 'adorable' part.

That caught my attention. "They what now? That's random."

We sat down on the couch, and Henry pulled my legs onto his lap. "Remember that paparazzo at the supermarket this morning? Apparently the pictures are out, and people are already freaking out about them."

"Oh, no..." I groaned. "What did they say?"

Henry grinned. "'Oh my God, I'm so glad you two are together!'" he quoted with a high-pitched voice, his accent changing to American. "'I ship you two soooo much!'" He laughed, shaking his head. "What does that even mean?"

"What, shipping?" When he nodded, I explained, "Well, it stems from relationship. When you ship two people, it means that you really want them to be together."

"Ooooooh. See, I already thought it was something along those lines, but I didn't want to ask and risk looking stupid. But anyway, they were really positive about you. Had nothing but good things to say about you. Said they loved you in our movie and in interviews they've seen you in, and that they're really happy we're doing another movie together. I told them about Ryan's joke—you know, when he said we should make an entire box set of movies together?—and they all immediately said that we should do that."

"Oh, wow. Now I definitely wish I'd been there."

"Do you ever run into many fans?"

"Not really. I mean, I run into some sometimes, and most of the time they're very relaxed. I mean, it's never like it is when fans meet you. I've had only one girl who freaked out when she saw me, but I got the feeling she usually freaks out quite quickly. But it's more like they recognize me and think it's cool to meet someone remotely famous; not like they're full-on fans."

"Trust me, if you keep going like you are now, that's gonna happen eventually. And I'm sure lots of guys come up to you too."

I smiled. "A few, but it's nothing to be jealous about."

"I'm not jealous. I mean, even if I was, I know it's inevitable anyway, so I'd better get used to it."

"I guess so. Same with you."

Henry suddenly grew a lot more serious, his grip on my legs tightening almost involuntarily; like he didn't even notice he was doing it. "So... If you don't want to tell me, that's completely and entirely okay, but I want to know what happened with Vince Grieve. Every time someone mentions him, it's kind of like you try to make yourself smaller and you get this deeply troubled look in your eye. Did he ever hurt you?"

"Physically? No. But... he was definitely abusive in a different way."

"What way? And again, if you don't want to tell me about it, that's fine, so don't feel pressured."

I smiled, but I knew the smile wouldn't reach my eyes. "He, um... He'd try to find out what my insecurities were, and he would always find them. And once he knew, he wouldn't stop bringing them up. He kept telling me I was a bad actress; that even the P.A.s could do a better job than me. Kept telling the costume department to get some Spanx for me. I don't know... He just always managed to make me feel bad about myself. And then, when you were spotted out with Alyssa and basically the whole world thought you two were back together, he said that it was no wonder that you'd chosen her over me, and 'think she can act? Then maybe I can choose her over you too.' He just... wasn't a nice person."

"Juliette... I—I'm so sorry. If I'd known..."

"It's okay, really. Vince's behavior isn't your fault. Besides, I was an easy victim. I was upset about you, I have anxiety, low self-esteem... To him, that probably screamed 'weakling I can abuse.'"

"Wait, hold up. Now you're making it sound like it was your fault. It wasn't, you know that, right? It was entirely on him, and he should pay for it. He will pay for it as soon as I get my hands on him."

"Henry..."

"I know, I'm sorry," he said, but it was clear that he was getting worked up. "I just... It pisses me off so much, you know? You are such a good person, inside and out, and you don't deserve to be treated that way. I know it sounds cliché, but he seems to be one of those people who've been living in the dark for too long, and now they can't stand to see anyone living in the light. I'm just sorry you had to be on the receiving end of his hatred. His treatment of you... is that why you'd lost so much weight?"

"I mean, maybe. But if I lost any weight, it wasn't on purpose. Like I said, it was mostly just stress, and because I was in a bad place, I just didn't have much of an appetite."

"But you're in a much better place now, right?" he asked, and I couldn't help but notice the hopeful note in his voice.

"Yes, I am. I mean, I'll probably always have anxiety, no matter how often I go to therapy or how much medication I take. But everything in my life is good now, so there's no reason to worry. Things are good. Really good."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Henry nervously smoothed down his black button down for about the tenth time since putting it on—which was saying something seeing as we got changed at the same time and I wasn't even done yet. "Are you sure your friends will like me? Maybe I'm meeting them too soon after all. I mean, we've only been together for two weeks."

I laughed, buttoning up my red plaid shirt. "Would you stop it? They'll love you. Besides, even though we've been together for such a short time, they've been talking about you for over a year. They've been wanting us to get together for just as long. So as long as you remain your usual, amazing self, you've got nothing to worry about. I swear."

"If you say so..."

"I do," I said, smiling up at him as I laced up my red Chucks. "But I really have to check on the ice cream. So... will you be okay? No longer concerned about my friends?"

"I'm just... a little nervous, that's all. But I'm sure it'll be fine. Now let's go downstairs and check on that undoubtedly amazing ice cream of yours. You do realize that, if it's as amazing as I expect it will be, I'll have you making it all the time, right?"

I grinned. "You can just make it yourself. You now know how to make stroopwafels, and you know how to make the ice cream."

"One little problem, though. I don't have an ice cream maker, nor do I have one of those special waffle irons."

"You can just use mine. Now come on, let's go downstairs."

"All right, hop on," Henry said, turning his back to me as if he was offering me a piggyback ride.

"Are you... Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious," he said, crouching down a little to give me easier access. "Now hop on."

I shook my head. "You're insane." But I hopped on anyway, shrieking with laughter as he bounced me up and down a couple of times, and I wrapped my arms around his chest, hoping I wouldn't fall. He carried me all the way down the stairs, not putting me back on the ground until we'd reached the kitchen. Once there, I opened the freezer and got out the container of ice cream. Opening it, I was immediately hit with the smell of cinnamon and caramel, automatically making me smile. I prodded at it carefully. It seemed solid enough, and the crumbled up stroopwafels I'd put in there seemed well-distributed. "It seems solid, so it should be good. I think we should wait until the others are here, though."

Henry groaned. "Are you kidding me? I've been salivating over this damn ice cream all day, and now you're telling me I have to wait?"

I laughed. "Sorry, hon. But why don't you try a stroopwafel? Have you ever even tried one of them before?"

"I actually don't think I have. Are you sure I can try one?"

"Yeah, of course. Grab one."

He took one of the cookies off the plate and took a bite. The syrup refused to let go for a bit, before nearly falling onto his chin. It didn't seem to bother him as he chewed, though. "Oh my God, this is amazing," he gushed, his mouth still full. "This is even better than the ice cream I had at your grandparents'. Not to downplay your grandmother's cooking or anything, though," he added quickly.

I laughed. "You didn't, trust me. That ice cream was store-bought. But I'm glad you like them. Be careful with those things, though. They're really heavy; they'll make you nauseous before you full and well realize it."

"Oh, I'll bet. I've seen the amount of sugar that went in there with my own two eyes."

Shortly after Henry had polished off his cookie and licked off his sticky fingers, the doorbell rang, and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest. I teased Henry for being nervous about meeting my friends, but I was secretly kind of nervous about it too. My friends and Henry were two huge parts of my life, probably the ones that mattered most, and though I was reasonably sure it would be fine, I just hoped bringing those two parts together wasn't a bad idea.

But when I opened the door, it was just Hanna and Scott, the only ones whom Henry had already met. Henry and Scott hadn't seen each other since the American press tour for If You Love Someone ended, but I'm sure they'd get along just like usual.

"Hey, guys," I said, greeting them both with hugs. "Why did you ring the doorbell? Forgot your keys?"

"No," Hanna said with a smile. "I just figured that, seeing as it's your first time hosting together, I'd give you guys the full experience."

"Hey, man," Scott said, clapping Henry on his back as he grinned. "I see you finally stopped being a stupid dickwad."

Henry grinned back. "Subtle, Tayler. But yes." He wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed my cheek.

Scott jokingly pulled up his nose. "Oh, God... You two aren't going to be one of those sickly sweet couples, are you?"

I stuck my tongue out at him. "As if you and Han don't make me sick from time to time. It's time for payback, Scotty."

He laughed. "At least now we can all be lovey-dovey together. But not too much, though; we don't want to suddenly find ourselves in the middle of an orgy."

"Scott!" Hanna protested, slapping him on the chest so hard I actually heard the smack.

Scott just laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at her. "Don't tell me you've never thought about it before, babe. Hey, what is that delicious smell? Aw, Morrison, did you bake for me?"

"Actually... I baked for Henry, seeing as he was craving stroopwafel ice cream."

"Stroopwafels?" Hanna asked, visibly perking up. Then she narrowed her eyes at me. "Wait. I've been asking you to bake stroopwafels ever since your Oma gave you the recipe and that waffle iron, and he asks you one time and you just go ahead and make them?"

"Oops?" I said, shrugging.

Hanna pointed at me. "You are so—"

Just as she was about to finish her threat, the doorbell rang. "Saved by the bell!" I said, getting up to open the door. "Keegs, Riss, hey!" I said, greeting both Keegan and Klarissa with hugs.

"Hey, sis," Keegan said, kissing my cheek. "Now, where is the man of the hour? In the living room?"

As Keegan stalked off towards the living room, Klarissa winced. "You'd better go after him. He's been coming up with threats all day."

"Oh, God," I said, rushing after him into the living room. When I got there, he was just shaking Henry's hand, and things looked friendly enough.

"Okay, Henry, listen," Keegan said after they'd introduced themselves to each other. "Juliette is like my little sister, so if you ever hurt her, I will go to great lengths to protect her. That will include getting one of my brother's swords and slowly cutting you into tiny pieces."

"So, wait. Your brother actually owns swords?"

"Yeah, he does. Somehow people are always unsure about that. Wonder why."

"It's also a very popular threat among our friends," I said.

"Yeah, I kind of gathered..." Henry said. "Hanna used it on me too." At that, Hanna gave him an impish grin. "But I get it. You guys love her and don't want her to get hurt, and I admire you guys for that. Actually, I'm so incredibly grateful that she has you guys. She deserves friends that love her and would probably kill for her if she asked you to."

"It's a good thing she would never ask," Hanna joked, but it was probably true.

Henry snorted. "True. But what I'm trying to say, is that I'm with you guys. I don't want to hurt her, and if I ever do, I'll probably ask you to do whatever it is you want to do with those swords, and if someone else hurts her, I'll come knocking on your door for one of those swords myself."

Keegan grinned. "Just as long as we're clear on that. Now bring it in, bro." Keegan pulled Henry in for a hug, and slapped his butt. The slap reverberated through the entire room, and Henry's eyes flew open.

"Whoa! So Juliette hadn't been kidding about that, huh?"

"Ah, so she warned you about me?"

I grinned. "I kind of felt like I had to. But even then, no one is ever ready for you, Keegs."

He grinned back at me. "Is it bad that I kind of pride myself on that? Either way, that beautiful ginger over there is my girlfriend Klarissa."

"It's nice to finally meet you, Henry," Klarissa said, smiling as she gave him a hug.

I could tell Henry was a little taken aback by all the love he was getting, but he'd better get used to it; all my friends were huggers. "It's nice to meet you, too, Klarissa."

"Sorry about Keegs. He's like the group's guard dog, except instead of a dog, he'd like to think he's a bear."

"Damn straight."

Soon after that, the others quickly started arriving, and as I watched Henry keep on introducing himself to them, I couldn't help but smile. The more of them he met, the more relaxed he got. It really had been silly of the both of us to be nervous. My friends were the kind of people Henry would be friends with even without me, and he got along with them effortlessly. And even if they hadn't been his kind of people, he still had enough natural charm and charisma to pretend they were.

"Okay, good. Now that everyone's been introduced, I'm gonna continue my tirade," Hanna said, leaning forward. "Juliette, you are so dead for making stroopwafels for Henry but not for me, even though I've been asking you for literally years."

"Wait," Ryley said with an excited grin. "Are you two finally having a fight? I have been fantasizing about this for years. You know, a little oil here and there, maybe a bit of mud wrestling, skimpy bikinis..."

"I swear to God, Ryley, one of these days, some girl you've pissed off is totally gonna kill you and no one will ever find your body," I said. "And no, we're not fighting, because I'm gonna apologize in the best way ever by baking another batch especially for her tomorrow."

"Now that's what I'm talking about. It had better be a big batch."

"No. I'm making a normal batch for your own good. Those things will make you nauseous in a nanosecond."

"I don't care. Where are they? In the kitchen? They're in the kitchen, aren't they? I'm gonna get them." She stood up from Scott's lap and raced to the kitchen, coming back with the plate of stroopwafels, one of them already stuffed in her mouth. "Dish ish sho good," she said, talking around the cookie.

"Let me just get the ice cream," I said, getting up from my seat next to Henry. "Who wants ice cream? Then I'll know how many bowls I need to grab."

"Me!" Keegan said. "I'll take two bowls, actually."

I shook my head, smiling. "You and your ice cream... You're going to get one bowl, just like everybody else."

Everyone wanted ice cream, and getting twelve bowls was a little much for just one person to handle, so Henry came along to help me. It also gave us a chance to talk in private for the first time since Henry had met my friends.

"So?" I asked. "What do you think?"

"Your friends are great, baby," Henry said, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close. "Guess I should've known, though. Someone as great as you," he said as he inched closer to me, "would have to have great friends."

I smiled as his lips captured mine. I was sucked into the kiss like usual, the whole world falling away piece by piece. I wrapped my arms around his neck and tangled my fingers in his curls, opening my mouth for him. He pulled me even closer, pulling my hips flush against his. There was zero space between us, and yet I still wanted to be closer. Wanted more. So much more.

"Holy crap, guys. This is even better than that movie you two played in."

My world crashing back into me, I quickly pulled away from the kiss. "Braeden! God!"

"No," he said, and he shook his head. "Braeden Goddard. And sorry, dude," Braeden said, holding up his hands. "Just wanted to get the booze." He opened the fridge, grabbed a few beers, and left again.

"I... am so sorry about that," I said awkwardly. "My friends don't really grasp the concept of privacy."

"I don't blame him. We are standing in the middle of the kitchen, after all," Henry said with a grin. He gave me one more kiss before stepping away from me fully and taking the ice cream out of the freezer. "Now, how many servings did you need?"

"Twelve," I said, already starting to get bowls from the cupboard. Together we divided the ice cream over them, and once every last one of them were filled, I put them on two trays, which we carried back to the living room. "There you guys go."

Keegan grabbed a bowl and a spoon and dug in. "Oh my gods, this is amazing," he said, his mouth still full. "Is there cinnamon in there? You know how much I love cinnamon."

I laughed. "I know. And yes, there is. Along with a shitload of caramel."

"You've really outdone yourself on this one, Jules," Colin said. "This is really good."

"I'm glad you like it, Colly."

"It really is amazing," Cynthia agreed. "And you'll have to give me the recipe for these cookies so I can sell them in my store."

I laughed. "Sure. You'll have to purchase a special iron, though, otherwise you won't be able to make the waffles so thin."

"I gathered that, yeah. But the cost doesn't matter, because I could make a fortune selling these."

"Juliette told me about your shop," Henry said.

"Oh?" Cynthia asked, her cheeks turning pink. She was still a little hung up on the celebrity thing, but I knew that within a few hours, that would all be over.

"Yes, she said your red velvet is amazing and that I should try it once."

"Oh my God, you so totally should," Shaye gushed. "It's... to die for. It's so incredibly good."

"Oh, shush," Cynthia protested, her blush deepening.

"Her rainbow cake is also really amazing," Alfie said. "I don't know how she does it, but everything she bakes turns to pure magic, it almost seems like."

"Truth," Ryley said, nodding as he shoved another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

"So if you ever throw a party that requires a cake," I said, "look up Cynthia's shop. You won't regret it."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Soon, all the ice cream was gone (and I do mean all the ice cream), and we'd graduated on to bigger and better things. Like drinking games.

We'd been playing high-low for at least an hour now, and it definitely showed. Everyone was at least tipsy, or in my case, drunk. I kept losing, even though I was absolutely positive it was higher. Or was it lower?

"Higher!" I shouted at the three of spades, confident I finally had a win coming. But when I turned the next card, it was a two of hearts. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I cried. "Oh, fuck this shit!" I took my mandatory sips of vodka soda, but then slammed the glass back on the table and stumbled away, off to turn on some music. "That's more like it!" I grinned. "Henry, come dance with me."

"Are you sure about that, baby?" he asked with an equally big grin. He'd been much luckier in playing the game than I had been, and he was only tipsy. Lucky bastard. "We don't have the best track record when it comes to you getting drunk and us dancing together."

"Yeah, but we're together now. It doesn't matter if anything were to happen." I gave him a cheeky smile and pulled him close to me.

"What about all your friends?" he whispered into my ear. "They'd all be able to see."

"Let them see," I said, pulling him down for a kiss.

He laughed into the kiss, kissing me back for a moment but pulling back rather quickly. Too quickly. I frowned at him, but he just said, "You really are drunk, Morrison."

"Maybe I am," I said, laughing. "No wonder, though. I kept losing! Did you see that?"

"Yes, I did," Henry said, fighting his laughter. As he twirled me around, he turned to my friends. "Is she always like this when she's drunk with you guys? Because I've seen her drunk before, and I don't think she was ever quite like this."

"It's the alcohol and the... SUGAR RUSH!" Hanna yelled, nearly flying across the room. It was Hanna, though, and she had to bump into every single piece of furniture she could possibly bump into, and then the next morning she'd see the bruises on her legs and ask me how the hell she'd gotten them. That was just typical Hanna.

"Ah, that explains it," Henry said, still fighting a smile. He twirled me back and dipped me low, supporting my back with his hand so I wouldn't fall.

"Ooh, Scott! Scotty!" Hanna yelled. "Do that with me please?"

"What, dip you?" When she nodded so fast that it seemed she might lose her head, he said, "All right then. Come here, pretty lady." He twirled her and dipped her so low her head nearly touched the floor, but she laughed delightedly.

"Yay!" she said, clapping her hands when he'd pulled her up again. She moved on quickly, though, running around the room one more time before jumping onto the couch. "Now I'm going to fly! Watch this!"

That sobered me up quickly, along with many of my other friends. Hanna tended to have amazing ideas when she was drunk, apart from the fact that they were only amazing in her mind. In other, slightly more sane minds, they were dangerous and sometimes even fatal (like that one time she thought she figured out how illusionists shove entire swords down their throats and wanted to try it out for herself, nearly forcing Keegs to get one of those infamous swords from his brother's place). We ran up to her—Colin, Alfie, Klarissa and I—and dragged her off the couch.

"Oh, no, you don't," Alfie said. "You're already going to wake up with bruises tomorrow, so let's not add any more."

She frowned. "Was that a threat, Mr. Atteberry?" She giggled. "That sounds like 'ate a berry.'" Then, gasping, she called out, "I finally get your Twitter handle! Alfie ate a berry!"

Alfie laughed. "Yes, my Twitter handle is indeed a play on my last name. Now, I think it's best to get you some water, Ms. McLynn."

Clutching the bottle of whisky to his chest, Keegan suggested, "Why don't we start watching horror movies? It's been ages since we've done that together."

"As long as you share that whisky, I am in for everything," Braeden said, plucking the bottle out of his grasp.

"Hey!" Keegan protested, but when he noticed Braeden was pouring him some as well, he grinned. "Niiiiiiice, bro!"

I grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen for Hanna, but then doubled back for a bottle for myself too. I did not want to wake up with a hangover tomorrow. We voted on which horror movie to watch first, and eventually settled on The Lazarus Effect. I sat down on Henry's lap as the movie started. My friends were scattered all over the living room, making themselves comfortable.

I took a swig from my bottle, and, recapping it, leaned against Henry's chest. "Are you having a good time?" I asked.

"The best. Your friends are amazing, Jules."

"I'm glad you like them, babe. You'll be seeing a lot more of them."

Henry smiled, softly kissing the skin just under my ear. "I can't wait."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I personally love writing all this fluffy stuff, so sweet that it'll make your teeth rot, so, if you don't mind, expect a lot more of that. However, they still have a few unresolved issues so it can't ALL be rainbows and butterflies. Like in the next chapter for example, where our favorite director EVER, Vince, makes a comeback...

The song at the start of the chapter is Our Song by Ron Pope.

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