Always A Pleasure || H.S. [COMPLETE]

Thirty-Two

"There's one more gift," Harry told Katherine as he got up to retrieve it from underneath the Christmas tree.

"The necklace is more than enough, Harry," she insisted, sliding her fingers over the smooth metal heart on her chest as he held out the small white box for her.

"It's not from me," he told her with a facetious grin.

"It's not from you?" She questioned with a look of sarcastic disbelief.

"It's not," he said as his smile grew bigger, which completely gave him away.

"Yeah, okay," she said sarcastically as she looked at the box again.

"Open it," he told her insistently and she finally reached out to take the present from him. She really hoped he didn't spend a lot of money on her.

"Go on," he insisted as he sat down next to her again.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she carefully pulled the top of the box off, finding a set of car keys in it with a tag on it that read 'To: Katherine, From: Santa'. Her eyes quickly shot up to Harry's.

"What is this?" She asked carefully as her heart pounded heavily in her chest.

"It looks like keys to a car," he pointed out, chuckling lightly under his breath.

"Harry, this is too much. This is way too much," she protested, feeling the anxiety worming its way back in, causing her chest to heave slightly.

She got him a book and he got her a freaking car. It was a glaring reminder that there was a massive, gargantuan gap between their socioeconomic statuses.

"Mon ange. It's not from me. See, it says it's from Santa," Harry said pragmatically, pointing at the tag.

"Harry, stop," she chuckled awkwardly, her eyes sending him a pleading look as her anxiety swelled inside of her.

"C'mon. Let's get you dressed so we can go find it," he prompted as he stood up and held out his hand for her to take.

"Harry Styles," she scolded, unable to move from the spot on the couch.

"What?" He chuckled, smiling down at her.

"This is too much. I can't..."

"Santa doesn't take returns," he protested immediately.

"Oh, so now you're the expert on Santa's return policy?" She joked, letting out a laugh.

"I read the fine print," he countered, not missing a beat, causing her to laugh out loud.

"C'mon," Harry insisted as he grabbed her arms and tugged her up so fast that she was barely able to grip onto the box before it fell.

"Time to get dressed, mon ange. Or else I'm carrying you down like this, and I'm quite certain you're not wearing any clothes under this," Harry coaxed as his fingers slowly untied her robe before sliding his hands inside, finding bare flesh, "Mm. I'm right."

Harry leaned in, leaving a kiss on her lips.

"Alright, c'mon. Haven't got all day," Harry asserted with a smirk on his face.

"Harry," Katherine sighed.

"I'll hold on to these. You get dressed. Chop-chop," he said insistently as he grabbed the small box from her.

She let out a huff as she tied her robe back up and finally walked away from him to fulfill his wishes. She changed into a sweatshirt and a pair of pajama pants to match Harry's dressed down look before she threw her hair into a messy ponytail.

The excitement was nearly buzzing out of Harry as she emerged from the bedroom.

"C'mon, mon ange," he said, holding out his hand for her.

She couldn't believe he did this. He bought her a car? Jesus Christ. Who does that? Well, she supposed a billionaire could and would.

She sighed, realizing she wasn't going to be able to decline this present from him— er, Santa Claus, because it was his very first Christmas that didn't bombard him with horrible memories of his childhood. Katherine wanted to make this Christmas as special as she could for him and if that meant accepting an extravagant car, no matter how uncomfortable and anxious it made her, she would have to suck it up.

Harry intertwined his fingers with hers as the two of them traveled down to the parking garage. When he smiled over at her in the elevator, she couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Santa really went all out this year," she teased, playing along with him.

"I'd say," Harry said with a facetious smirk as the elevator doors opened to the lower level garage and the two of them walked out, making their way over to Harry's personal fleet of vehicles.

She immediately noticed a brand new white Range Rover with a big red bow on the hood of it next to his black Maserati Granturismo that he drove more than any other car he owned. The only other cars that saw more mileage than that one were the three black Range Rovers; one that Harry sometimes drove and two others that the security team usually drove.

"Harry," she gasped, looking up at him, her mouth agape.

"Here, mon ange," he offered, holding up the keys for her, "It's all yours."

The happiness on his face was all the reason she needed to take the keys from him.

"Since Santa isn't here, can I thank you for this instead?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow as she smirked at him.

"I suppose. But I think that might put me on the naughty list," he chuckled, causing her to laugh out loud.

"Sir, you're more benevolent than you seem to think," she countered, sending him a knowing look.

"Am I?" He asked, smiling at her as she stepped up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You are, mon amour," she cooed against his lips before she leaned in, pressing a kiss there.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," she gushed, kissing him between each expression of gratitude.

"Santa says, 'you're welcome'," Harry replied, smirking mischievously at her.

"I love you," she cooed, leaning in to kiss him again.

"You make me feel a lot," he breathed against her lips, pressing in for another kiss.

He was the love of her life, the man she could see herself growing old with. She didn't even want to think about a life without him in it. He made every day with him special and he definitely did not disappoint on her very favorite holiday.