#Fallinharry10k

[carrotmakar]

The View From Both Sides of The Mirror

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 23.5k

Summary: Who would have thought that being stuck on a boat with your worst enemy would be a good thing?

Warning(s): Cursing, some mentions of yachtrry, Harry being a softie, Harry also being a dick, reader being down on herself

A/N: So this is my submission for @stylesharrys​ 10k follower celebration! I chose the picture above, the trope enemies to lovers, prompt “That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.”  I’ve been working on this for quite a while and I really debated deleting the entire thing a few times, but here she is, all finished and ready to be enjoyed!!

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*

Harry Styles is a lot of things. Annoying, over the top, self obsessed, judgmental, self indulgent, careless, overly flamboyant, rude, narcissistic. He’s a lot of things, but perfect is not one of them.

The media continuously had a lot of ridiculous ideas about him, most of which were laughable. You’d often scroll through your social media and snort at the things that people would post about him. You had seen some things that were quite funny, but nothing compared to the article that your best friend, Lexi, had shown you. You full body cackled after reading the title, and who could blame you? “The Perfect Man the World Didn’t Know It Was Missing” was top tier comedy.

There were a plethora of things wrong with the title that the up and coming news station had so foolishly chosen.

The most obvious of which being the fact that he was literally 26, and he’s been in the spotlight for over ten years. The world hadn’t been missing him at all. He’s been shoved in everyone’s face for over a decade and they find a new reason to act like he’s the best thing that ever happened to the universe. They over exaggerate everything, make it seem like he was either born an hour ago or just discovered yesterday. Which was definitely not the case, as you had been told numerous times by the man himself. 

The second being that they all acted like they knew him when really they had absolutely no idea who he is. The ones that covered the stories acted like they knew him as well as his childhood best friend when really they had taken a statement, at most. They had no clue who he actually was. They couldn’t tell you his favorite number, or how he fixes his toast. They don’t know the reason why he no longer wears skinny jeans. They don’t know why he’s so open with who he is and how he presents himself. None of them know anything about any of that, and it’s more bothersome than you’d like to admit. But it’s not just the people that praise him that rub you the wrong way. No, it’s even the ones that say bad things about him, that claim that he’s Satan's spawn. It was still exasperating to hear them say things about him. They acted like they knew him well enough to hate him, to paint him as the villain in their article.

Yeah, sure, you and Harry didn’t get along, but at least you had a reason. Most of the people that didn’t like him were just upset because basically everyone wanted something to do with him, and they were all mad because he was seemingly perfect. He never lost his temper (he definitely did, just not in public), he was nice to everyone (yeah, besides you), and he would never turn down a picture with a fan if it was safe to do so and he had time (that one was true. The one part of him that you don’t absolutely hate is the love that he has for his fans. He’d be nowhere without them, and he realizes that. And, although he’s not appreciative of a lot of things, he is of them).

And the final thing about the article, the one that irked your nerves the most, was that they were yet another news group to paint the picture that he was perfect, that he was the golden boy. That he had never once done something that could be seen as wrong. Which, yet again, goes to show that they don’t really know anything about him, at least not personally.

Sure, Harry Styles came off as perfect. He had to. He’s in the public eye, spotted everywhere that he goes by at least one person. He had been coached from the ripe old age of 16 to come across in that way. In his career, there has never been any room for error. One mistake could have brought down everything that the managers of One Direction were trying to accomplish.

He was conditioned into media perfection long ago. He had been told how to speak, how to act, what to wear, what to sing. Anything that could possibly cause an upset in the fandom was immediately changed, edited to make it look better. He was shaped into the boy that the world had come to love. 

But Harry, the guy that you spent the majority of your waking hours with, due to the numerous mutual friends that you had, was annoying at best. Most of the time, though, he was a complete prick.

There was nothing about the man he was behind closed doors that was perfect. He was utterly and completely himself. Most people would think that’s a good thing, him being comfortable enough to himself to the fullest extent. But you? You absolutely hated those times. He was much easier to deal with when you were out in public, when he was too worried about keeping up appearances to do anything particularly shitty. 

The two of you had never gotten along. From the very moment that the two of you had met, there was a tension. It was like there was an immediate distaste for one another. All of your friends could tell that the two of you would never get along, but they tried to force it anyway.

That night, he had seemed completely uninterested, like he’d rather be at some party that only had A-List celebrities on the guest list than there meeting you. At first, you had been hurt. But then you came to accept it. Came to accept the fact that you just weren’t good enough for him. You weren’t like the rest of your friends. All you did was work in photography, and you weren’t even one of the well off photographers. Sure, you didn’t struggle, but you weren’t on the same level as the rest of the people that you had formed friendships with.

Your mutual friends had tried their best to ease the tension between the two of you. They had done everything in their power to force the friendship. You had to give them props, they pulled all the stops, but there was nothing that anyone could do that would make you not loathe the mere thought of him. Maybe it was the fact that he made you doubt who you were. Maybe it was the fact that he gave off the asshole vibe. Or maybe, it was just because he seemed to not like you, but from that day forward, you weren’t on good terms with him.

Things had gotten so bad with Harry that you had even tried to find a new group of friends. You were tired of feeling like you were the odd man out, feeling like you had ruined every outing because you couldn’t just suck it up and get along with him. There had come a time when you didn’t even feel like you had belonged. All of the people that you had surrounded yourself with were extremely successful. Most of them were CEOs of something. But when Harry had met them, he had introduced the singers, writers, and musicians into the group. You weren’t any of those things. Sure, a lot of people saw you as an artist, but you could barely be seen as anything compared to the others, and that haunted you until you began to believe that your occupation as a photographer wasn’t valid.

So, you searched for new friends. You tried to find people that would make you feel like you belonged, like you were their equal. You just wanted some people that you could relate to. You hadn’t felt that in way too long, and being around Harry and his super successful, extremely famous friends wasn’t helping any.

You tried for a few weeks before realizing that it was pointless. He found a way to weasel himself into that aspect of your life as well. 

Every single time you met someone new, the same thing happened. You’d talk to them for a few minutes, get to know each other a little. But each time, without fail, they’d ask “Hey, aren’t you that chick that’s friends with Harry Styles?” And each time, you’d immediately walk away, never looking back.

Nobody cared about making friends with you, they just wanted to have a way to Harry. Every cell in your body was filled with regret. You had made the decision to openly be in the same friend group as him. You hadn’t taken into consideration that once you were spotted with him repeatedly, your life would never be the same.

It left you wanting to rip your hair out. Or at least go back in time so that you never had to meet him, never had to be in public with him. It sucked that no matter how hard you tried, he wouldn’t stay out of your life. He was present even when he physically wasn’t, and it was aggravating beyond belief.

It was safe to say that you hate Harry Styles.

It was also safe to say that Harry Styles hates you.

You were so uptight, always sticking up your nose at everything that he did. You had done it since the moment that you had met him and it seemed as if you had never stopped.

You had given him a look that could only be described as one filled with disdain the moment that you met him, and from that moment on he had tried his best to distance himself from you. With the both of you running in the same circle, though, that was pretty hard.

So, he had just tried his best to ignore you. That didn’t work very well either, seeing as you always had a reaction to everything that he did. And none of those reactions were ever positive.

You acted like there was something wrong with him spending the money that he earned. It got on his nerves more than just about anything. What was he supposed to do with it? Was he just supposed to let it sit in his bank account for the rest of his life? He donates a large chunk of everything that he earns every year, it wasn’t like he was just blowing his money on meaningless things. He had his priorities straight.

He had come to despise nights out, knowing that you would be there. You always had something to say. Or not say, rather. You’d never tell him that it was exactly that made you so upset with him. Every time you would send him a look, he’d ask why, but you’d simply turn on your heel or slip out of the booth, heading to the dance floor to be as far away from him as possible.

He was a simple man, really. He just wanted to go out with his friends, buy something strong off the top shelf, and drink until he was in the cuddly mood that his mind automatically switched into when there was enough alcohol running through his veins.

But with you there? Oh, he couldn’t do that. God forbid he buys something expensive like that. God forbid that he spend his money on what he wanted to. Every time he’d order his drink, you’d curl your nose up, as if you were completely disgusted by his choice. And every time that he would get overly touchy and want to cuddle someone, he would automatically seek you out. He didn’t know why, and he despised his brain for thinking of no one else but you. 

He knew that the fact that he never chose someone else to agitate probably made you hate him even more than you already did, and he went home every weekend feeling awful about it. He never meant to annoy you. Sure, he hated you, couldn’t stand the way you acted like you were better than him, like you were higher up than him even though he saw the two  of you as equals, but he never meant to purposefully get on your nerves. He never went out of his way to cause you to hate him even more. 

However, that didn’t stop you from thinking that he did. Didn’t stop you from thinking that he’d do anything in his power to pester you. It didn’t stop you from hating him more and more every day.

*

When your friends had called you and told you that they wanted to go on vacation, you were excited. You could use a break, a bit of time to forget about all the stress and just relax on a boat with your friends. Plus, you had never been to Brighton, so there was no way you were going to say no to that experience.

However, the initial glory of the idea wore off the moment that you realize Harry’s the only one with any kind of boat. Which means in order to have the relaxing getaway that you want, you'll have to deal with him for at least a few hours every day, if not every moment that the sun is up. If you’re completely honest, you don’t even understand how he’s going to get the yacht to Brighton when it’s kept in the States. You didn’t question it, though, because that’s the reason that Lexi gave you. Which means that has to be the reason that he has to go.

To top it off, it won’t even be like it normally is. If he gets you worked up enough, you can’t even just walk away and leave, you’ll be stuck on his boat in the middle of a body of water, with no way to swim to land without risking something bad happening.

You had already paid the deposit for the house, but you were fully willing to let someone else take your place on the trip. Were fully willing to give up the vacation because there’s no way in the world that you could spend an entire week with Harry without something terrible happening. Plus, there was only room for four people and there were many more than just that in your friend group. They could easily find a replacement.

When you had called back to tell Lexi and Sam that you weren’t going to be attending, they all but guilt tripped you into coming along, saying that they had invited you for a reason and that they would be really bummed out if you decided to stay behind and give someone your spot.They also gave you the look, the one they always hit you with when you back out of something just because of Harry. 

You felt bad, always ruining plans because you were in a constant argument with him, so you tried to put your pride to the side for a moment and at least listen to what they had to say.

Against your better judgement, you agree to go, but only because you would have your own room with a private bathroom attached, and your friends confirmed that they wouldn't say anything about you hiding away from Harry if he got to be too much. They also assured you that you and Harry would be separated for the majority of the trip. 

They knew that the both of you need a vacation, but neither of you can stand the other, so they promised that you would have an adequate amount of alone time to have the relaxation that vacations are supposed to bring.

After doing your shoot that night, you go home and pack the suitcases you'll need for the week that the four of you plan on staying there. You don’t pack much, just a single suitcase and a carry on. You check to make sure that you have your passport and that it’s valid, and that you have all the items from around the house that you’ll need.

Once everything is settled and put together, you flop down on your bed, switching on a random Netflix show that you’d been obsessed with lately and allowing yourself to drift off to sleep..

*

You’ll never know how your friends had let them talk you into letting them plan the entire trip. The only thing that you were told was how much your portion of the bills were and when they were due. It has annoyed you to no end, seeing that you are the type of person that likes to know every detail of what’s  going on. You had been on more than enough trips that had absolutely everything that could go wrong do exactly that, leading to ruined trip after ruined trip, that you’d rather know all the plans, maybe even make a list or two so that there are no missteps or slip ups when it comes to the actual vacation.

You texted Lexi a few hours before you had to leave to board the flight to ask if you could scan over the plans and the details of the trip, not to change anything, just to double check. Of course, she said no immediately, not understanding that you just wanted to look over it and make sure that everything was in order to calm your nerves. You didn’t want to explain this to her, though, knowing that she would begin to feel guilty for not letting you see it immediately, and that’s not what you wanted to happen.

If you had talked to her and she had actually allowed you to check literally anything for the trip, though, the first thing you would have ensured was that you wouldn’t be stuck on a plane right next to Harry for hours. You’ll never understand how she could put you in this situation, making you sit next to the most loathsome person in this world, who she knows that you can’t even be in the same room as for more than a few hours.

By the time the situation registers in your mind, however, he’s already loaded his carry on and sat down in the seat. Which means that it's definitely too late to do anything about it. Yeah, you’d rather not sit next to him for hours on end, but you’re definitely not going to cause a scene on an airplane full of people. Especially not when half of them already have their phones out, trying to discreetly take pictures of Harry.

Besides, the flight attendant is already coming around checking belts and the pilot is introducing himself and spouting out information that seemingly no one is paying attention to. This flight will be over in no time. At least that’s what you tell yourself to get through the next ten hours.

You groan, rolling your eyes at the irony of the situation. Of course something like this would happen. You had only agreed to a vacation because you needed relaxation. You needed a break from all the stress. But here you were, stuck right next to one of the biggest stress inducers in your life. Yeah, Lexi had promised you that you’d have plenty of time away from Harry at the rental house, but you were definitely making up for all the time that would be lost right now.

If you didn’t know better, you would think that Lexi and Sam were plotting against you. But that’s crazy, right? They wouldn’t do something like this on purpose, would they?

You lightly shake your head, pushing the thought from your mind. They wouldn’t do that.

You pull out your phone, queuing up the playlists you had downloaded prior to boarding. You knew that you’d want to shut yourself off from the world for the duration of the trip there, so you prepared accordingly.

You take one final glance around the cabin, seeing that everyone else has begun settling in and nobody else is announcing something important. You slip your headphones in your ears, ready to relax as much as possible throughout the flight. You know that the only way to completely avoid being pestered by Harry is to completely block him out.

The first song that comes on makes you want to laugh. You obviously don’t do such a thing, knowing that the outburst would cause every single person on the plane to look at you like you’re crazy. 

You couldn’t catch a break today. Of course one of his songs would be playing in your ears while your face was less than a foot from his. Of course it would actually be one of your favorites. You had never once in your life pressed the skip button on this song, but knowing that he’s as close to you as he is, you’re hesitant to even listen to the opening chords of the song.

“Carolina” blared through your headphones for a split second before you made up your mind and hit skip. You couldn’t risk being caught by him. There’s no way you would survive this if he found out that you listened to his music, especially since you have it saved to your playlist. There’s no way that you’d be able to play that off as you simply listening to it so that you could make fun of him for it later (which you wouldn’t do in general, you know how important his music is for him, and you’d never dampen the light that appears in his eyes when he talks about it. You’re not that cruel.).

It was quite frustrating, really. His music is fantastic, a perfect blend of the basic attributes that hook audiences that hear songs on the radio and a uniqueness that you can’t find anywhere else. His music was absolutely amazing, but the man that sang it… he was a different story.

You didn’t like to judge his tracks based on how fond of him you were when you first heard them. If you did that, you’d never listen to them in general. 

You’d never admit it to him, but every song of his, even the covers, was scattered throughout your playlists. And every once in a while, when nobody was around, you would listen to them and genuinely enjoy them. Sometimes you’d even dance along, and that’s a secret that you’ll take to the grave.

You wanted to drift off to sleep, but didn’t want to risk him hearing if one of his songs came on. Lord knows that he doesn’t need the ego boost. So, you turned the volume down until you were confident that nobody else could hear it. You lean your head back against the rest and let your eyes slip shut, finding sleep in seconds.

*

What seems like moments later, you’re being awoken by someone. You think that maybe it’s Lexi at first, but then you feel them, the rings that he never seems to take off. You jerk your body away from him, not wanting his hands to be on you. 

“Hey, it’s time to wake up. We’ve landed.” You open your eyes and glare at him, taking your headphones out. You can tell that he’s holding in a laugh and it makes you want to punch him right in the jaw. You choose not to do such a thing, however, because you’d rather not cause a scene on an airplane. So, you settle for flipping him off.

He chuckles before mimicking your action. You roll your eyes, standing up from the seat and grabbing your carry on. Harry steps back, letting you walk ahead of him. You think nothing of it until he pushes at the back of your knee, almost making you fall to the ground. What is he? A middle schooler? 

You can already tell that this is going to be a long trip, regardless of what Lexi and Sam had assured you. So far, what they had said had turned out to mean absolutely nothing to you. Not for the first time since you woke up this morning, you find yourself wishing that you hadn’t given in. That you had just said no and not let them talk you into it.

You walk with a bit more speed after you step off of the airplane, trying to get as far away from him as possible. You don’t want to have to add falling over in the middle of the airport to the list of reasons why you despise flying. You had only agreed to get on the plane this time because it was absolutely necessary in getting to Brighton.

You meet up with Sam and Lexi by the luggage pick up and all of you wait for your bags. You put all your effort into ignoring Harry, only looking in his direction or humming an approval when the conversation called for it.

“Alright, well. We need to get to the car rental service and then I have to go rent the yacht.” Harry says, making you snap your head up, looking straight at him. After a second, you turn to Lexi and Sam, looking between the two.

“Oh, no, no, no. Tell me you’re fucking joking.” You spit. “Harry just had to come, huh? And you wouldn’t let me back out? Harry’s the only one with a yacht? Yeah, he’s the only one with a yacht but he’s fucking renting one.” You can’t believe this. “Look, if I had known that me being stuck in a foreign country with him wasn’t completely necessary, I would have given someone else this vacation in a heartbeat.”

“Y/N come on…” Sam starts, but you cut him off.

“What, Sam? Want me to hold my tongue yet again so I don’t hurt Harry’s feelings?” You scoff. Why did they care about his feelings when he had never once taken yours into consideration? “Well, you know what? Fuck Harry’s feelings. He’s rude to me for absolutely no goddamn reason and I’m tired of it. I wanted to come on this god forsaken trip so that I could relax. Both of you,” you point back and forth between Sam and Lexi, “promised me that I would get to relax, that I would only be around Harry on the boat. But it seems like your word is bullshit, doesn’t it?”

Your luggage rolls around and you yank it off the conveyor. “Let’s go get the stupid ass cars. And Harry?” You turn to him, pointing your finger at him and tapping his chest. You ignore the way that the contact sends shivers up and down your spine. “Don’t you dare fucking say a word to me on the way there. Don’t touch me, for any reason. You know what? Just don’t even look at me. That should make everything a little more bearable, got that?” 

He nods, and with that, you walk towards the exit of the airport, knowing that there was no way you could continue that argument without bursting into tears. You weren’t upset in that way, you just had the habit to start crying when you were pissed off at someone to this point. They had really lied to your face. You know Lexi though, she’ll use the fact that she ‘technically didn’t lie because Harry is the only one with a yacht.’ 

You wait outside, knowing that they have the address to the car rental place, and there’s no way that you want to get lost here. You don’t look at any of them once they come out the doors, and they don’t make any effort to talk to you. 

The entire walk to the shop, you stay a few feet behind them, not wanting to be too close to any of them. It’s not even so much so that you were mad anymore, that had subsided. You were hurt. The fact that they lied to you? That was something that all of you had promised to never do to one another, even you and Harry. And what hurt even worse was the fact that the people that did lie to you weren’t who you expected to ever lie to you. If anyone was going to do something like that, you expected that it would have been Harry that did it, not them. It probably wouldn’t have hurt as much if it had been Harry, but only because you had mentally prepared yourself for him to betray you, had kept your walls up against him since the moment that he showed you who he was around you.

The walk to the rental store was a short one, leaving you barely any time alone with your thoughts, which you were completely fine with. You didn’t really want to be in your head right now.

Lexi walks in, leaving the three of you outside. She comes out a moment later with two sets of keys. “Alright, who’s riding with who?”

“I’ll ride with Sam, give Y/N some time away from me.” If he hadn’t said it with the hint of sarcasm that he did, his words could have been mistaken for sweetness. But you know how he is. He makes everyone else think that he’s such a sweetheart when really he’s a prick.

*

The house is nice. Really nice, actually. The moment you walk in, you’re met with the high ceilings of the entryway. You must admit that Lexi and Sam did a great job on picking the house that you’d be staying in for the week. You walk through the entryway and see a kitchen off to the side, it’s really modern, looks like it was just redone. There’s a sitting room directly adjacent to where you’re standing. And you can see multiple doors and a hallway that leads to other rooms, which you assume are bedrooms and the half bath that would be used for guests.

You immediately go to pick a room, knowing that nobody else really plans on being in their rooms at all, so it’s not like they’ll mind. You venture down the hallway and see a few art pieces. You smile to yourself. The house is really cute. You wouldn’t mind living somewhere like this when you find someone and settle down.

You look through all the rooms before choosing the one at the very end of the hallway. There’s a large four poster bed sitting in the middle of the room. There’s a bookshelf to the right of the bed and a nightstand with a cute little lamp on it to the left. Upon walking further into the room and scanning the entirety of it, you see that there’s a dresser against the wall opposite the bed. There’s a tv sat upon the dresser. To the right of that, there’s a door that leads to the bathroom.

Even if Harry does get on your nerves during this trip, you can always come in here and escape from it all. You smile at the thought. That was truly the first thing that had been seen as a positive since you had left your house that morning. 

Since it was already pretty late, you decided to hop in the shower. Grabbing your clothes for the night and walking into the bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you begin peeling off your clothes. Just doing that puts you in a better mood, you had been wearing those clothes for far too long. They probably didn’t smell the best, having sat on your body for an entire plane ride.

You fiddle with the temperature settings on the shower for a moment before stepping in. The moment that the hot water hits your skin, you let out a sigh of relief. You can feel the muscles that had tensed up throughout the day start to relax.

After spending what feels like an adequate amount of time in the shower, you towel off and get dressed, making your way to the bed. You crawl under the plush comforter and immediately feel the exhaustion rack your body. You turn off the lamp and roll onto your stomach, letting sleep pull you into the blissful state where nothing bothers you

*

Lexi busted into your room early the next morning, shaking you awake until you turned to face her.

“Do you need Sam and me to get you anything from the store?” She chirped, far too giddy for any normal person to be this early in the morning.

That makes sense, though, because Lexi is far from normal. She has this electric personality, usually bringing out the absolute best in everybody.

She has been your best friend since high school. She took you under her wing during your sophomore year, her junior year.

Since then, you have been through a lot together. Crushes, relationships, heartbreaks, you and her yelling at the guy or girl that broke the other’s heart. You helped each other pick up the pieces when nobody else was there to help do so.

You had been through dozens of friendships since sophomore year, but the only one that has been a constant is her.

Sure, the both of you had changed. But you had changed together and supported one another through every decision.

You had seen her cycle through different haircuts - she had chopped off her brown curls during her senior year and instantly hated them, choosing to let them grow back out to their rightful place, right below her shoulders - and hair colors - when she cut her hair, she also dyed it a bright red, which you’re still convinced is the real reason she hated the length of it as well. You had also experienced her ever changing sense of style, which was actually a plus for you most times, because when she changed her taste and cleaned out her closet, she’d give you all of the clothes that no longer satisfied her, leaving you with a new wardrobe at least once a year.

And she had been there for you too, sticking with you through your ‘whore phase.’ Which really just consisted of you dating the ‘hottest guy in school’ - he wasn’t really that hot - and then rumors spread the next year that you were messing around with the ‘hottest girl in school’ - that one was the one that got you the label, all the guys being mad that they couldn’t get with her, seeing as she was strictly into girls. 

Lexi had also dealt with your late night calls, riddled with anxiety, not knowing what it is that you could possibly do with your future. She had calmed you down multiple times, talking through options with you. She was the reason that you came to realize that you wanted to be in the fashion industry in some way. 

She had already known what she wanted to do, had been aware of her dreams since before she even made it into high school. She used to tell you all the time, “Y/N, one of these days, I’m going to own a Fortune 500 company.” And that’s exactly what she had done. 

Which is the only reason that you got to be friends with all the people that you do. She’s also the one who introduced you to Harry, starting the rivalry between the two of you.

“No, I’m fine.” You groaned, rolling back over.

“Alright, sleepy head.” She chuckled, walking back out of your room and latching the door.

Once she’s gone, you reach over and grab your phone, checking the time. Seven A.M. You groan. Was she crazy? 

You’re definitely not pleased that you’re up this early. However, you decided to go ahead and stay up. Your alarm would be going off in two hours, and you know that you’ll be grumpy if you go back to sleep just to wake up then.

You pull yourself out of bed, trudging to the bathroom. You run through all the steps of your morning routine and emerge from the bathroom, ready to take on the day.

Your way of taking on the day is going to be picking a book from the bookshelf and laying in bed until around ten, when you’re scheduled to go out to the water for the day.

*

It’s almost ten when you get the text from Sam.

We’re running late, you and H go ahead and get on the water, we’ll rent jet skis to get out there. X

You roll your eyes, of course they’d be late. And of course they’d leave you to fend for yourself with Harry.

You quickly get dressed in your dark blue bikini, the one that accentuates all your curves perfectly. You then throw an oversized band tee over your head, making sure that you’re covered enough before walking out and making sure that Harry's ready and has everything that he’ll need for the day. You’re really not in the mood to have him forget something and have to come all the way back to the house.

When you reach the living room, he’s already by the door, dressed in a pair of yellow swimming trunks and a cream colored tee. He has the yacht keys in hand, along with his phone. He already has the cooler and the bag Lexi had packed with supplies for the day (sunscreen, portable chargers, etc.). 

You just stand there for a moment, looking him over, trying to ignore the feeling that you got in your stomach. You couldn’t place exactly what it was, but it had to be one of disgust, right? You couldn’t stand being around him, he was unnecessarily rude to you and you can’t tolerate him. That feeling couldn’t be anything good, it had to be disgust, or maybe it was resentment. Either way, it stopped you in your tracks.

“You coming or what, loser? It’s enough that it’s just us, do I need to hold your hand too?” He smirks.

You push down the rising feeling in your chest, and push past him, walking over to the passenger side of the suv that he had rented for the week. 

He takes his sweet time strolling over, popping the trunk and placing the bag and cooler in before slamming it shut again. He unlocks the doors and you slide in, buckling your seat. You refuse to look at him, knowing that if you make eye contact with him, he’ll be more inclined to say something dickish to you.

The ride to the water is mostly quiet, the only sound in the car being the music from the radio. Some top 40s song that you haven't heard yet was filling the air, causing the silence between you and Harry to be slightly less awkward. 

“What’re you gonna do when we get there?” He asks. You’re taken aback for a moment. Why was he even talking to you, let alone asking what your plans were for the day? Why was he being weird? “Because, honestly, you should probably tan, you look like a ghost.” There it is, the snide remark that was missing.

You scoff. “Harry, maybe don’t check me out every two seconds and you won’t notice.” You joke, knowing that he’s the last person on the planet that would ever check you out.

You expect him to hurl an insult back at you, tell you that he’d never check out someone as ugly as you, or tell you that he was only scanning to see what he could make fun of, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say a word, and when you turn to him, you see that the tips of his ears are red and there’s a blush creeping up his neck. Was it really that embarrassing to be accused of checking you out? 

You don’t push him, thankful for the returning silence. It only takes a few more moments to get to the docks anyway, so it’s not like the silence is stretched out for too long.

You grab the cooler and the bag this time, knowing that he’ll have to drive the yacht, and you don’t feel like hearing about how lazy you are because you didn’t do enough.

The walk to the boat is silent and filled with tension. It’s like both of you want to say something, are dying to talk to the other, but you won’t. You don’t want to talk to him, you just want to talk to someone. It’s not the same. 

Once Harry gets everything ready, you climb onto the boat, setting everything down and pulling out the sunglasses that you had decided to bring at the last moment.

“So, where do you think we should go?” You ask, knowing that he’s been here before. He’ll know how far out you can go while still being able to anchor the yacht.

“Out on the water, duh.” His words are laced with sarcasm and it makes you want to throw him overboard. Too bad he’s the only person on this vacation that’s ever had enough down time to actually learn how to handle one of these things.

“You know what the fuck I meant, stop being an idiot.” You spit, hating how easily he got a rise out of you.

He chuckles before waving you off with a, “I know what I’m doing, darling, don’t worry about it.” 

He seems to catch what he says as soon as it slips out of his mouth, his eyes widening and the blush coming back to his features. You choose to ignore it. You’d rather just go up to the deck and tan.

For a split second, you debate on whether or not you should lay out, knowing that he would think you were doing it because of the comment that he made. But then you realize that you don’t actually give a fuck about what he has to say or what he thinks with his final two brain cells. 

So, you head up to the upper deck, stripping yourself of your shirt and laying out a towel for you to rest on.

You stay in that position, only moving to flip over so that each side gets an even amount of sun, until you hear jet skis approaching.

You push yourself up, wandering down to where Harry has set up his towel. Apparently he decided to sunbathe as well. It’s not like he needed it though, he has a tan that any woman would absolutely die for. 

You quickly give him a once over, halting when you realize that he’s put a stupid hat on his head. And not even just that, he has it on backwards. What was he trying to do, absolutely kill you? 

Here’s the thing, you hate Harry, sure. But you aren’t blind. You can see how attractive he is, how his tattoos run over his tanned skin, making you want to trace each detail with the tip of your finger, or more honestly, your tongue. His muscles always accentuate everything that he wears, regardless of whether it’s one of the custom Gucci suits or a random Nike tank that he threw on to go on a run. His face is damn near perfect, so much so that it makes you want to throw up. His cheekbones are high, jawline sharp. He was blessed with the dimples, which are only made even better by his eye crinkles. And God, his hands. His hands that are constantly adorned with rings, all of which could probably pay your rent for at least a year.

It’s really not fair. In all honesty, him being as completely flawless his physical attributes seem to be is absolutely not fair. You used to scoff at the fact that people were blessed with good looks. It was all genes, right? Wrong. Sure, Anne’s gorgeous and you’re sure that Desmond had to have had something going for him when Anne met him, but Harry? He came out to be a whole lot more attractive than anyone you had ever seen. And just to add on to everything, he was the person that you hated the most in the world.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by Lexi pulling up to the side of the boat and climbing in. She doesn’t even look at you, just walks farther into the yacht. You don’t think to question her, she’s probably annoyed by something that Sam said. But then you notice that Sam isn’t getting off his jet ski, does he plan on just not taking his shirt off the entire time?

Lexi comes bounding back to where you and Harry are standing, but she again doesn’t stop. She just keeps walking, clambering back onto her abandoned vehicle. You’re confused for a second, what’s going on? But then you see them, the keys dangling in her fist. You’d know those keys anywhere. They were put on Harry’s keychain the moment that he had picked them up. She has the yacht keys.

Before you can say anything about it, she’s driving off, yelling, “Have fun!” into the wind.

“They did not just-” You start, only to be cut off by Harry. Usually, you’d be annoyed by him, but this time, you have another source of irritation.

“Yeah, they just pulled an Outer Banks on us.” He sighs, walking back to where he had originally been laying. 

“Are you not mad?” You try to stop your eyes from tracing the expanse of his back, but it seems to be impossible.  The way that his muscles are flexing under the expanse of skin drawing you in.

“No, are you?” He sounds like he couldn’t care less, which is odd. Shouldn’t he be upset that he’s forced to spend an entire day alone with the person that he hates?

“Um, yeah.” You groan. Of course you’re mad, you don’t want to be here. How can he seem so calm?

“Why are you so fucking uptight all the time?” He blurts, catching you off guard. The words hit you like a train, knocking all the air out of your lungs. So this is why he hated you. You just thought that you gave him the wrong vibes or something, he seemed like the kind of person to judge based on that type of thing.

“What do you mean?” He looks over at you and rolls his eyes.

“I mean, why are you so uptight all the time?” For some reason, your chest tightens up and you feel like you’re going to cry. You’d known that he couldn’t stand you, that he’d rather not be around you, but hearing the real reason? Hearing what he really hates about you? That fucking hurts.

“Is that why you hate me?” At most, you had thought that maybe he just looked down on you, thought that you weren’t good enough to be part of the friend group because you didn’t own a fortune 500 company, or sell houses for the richest people in America, or sing to thousands upon thousands of adoring fans. But apparently not. Apparently he had an actual, legitimate reason, and for some reason, that stings.

“I don’t hate you.” You scoff and roll your eyes at him. Did he really think you’d believe that? “I just think that you’re uptight and you get on my last nerve.” 

“You hate me, Harry. Don’t try to lie about it.” He can say what he wants, but people that don’t hate you don’t act the way that he does.

“I don’t hate you, I just strongly dislike you.” This makes you snicker. He’s such an idiot sometimes.

“That’s literally just you saying that you hate me with a different word choice.” He looks over at you, and you see the little tufts of curls sticking out from the side of his hat. The sight makes your chest ache, why does he have to be so fucking cute? Why couldn’t you be blessed with an ugly enemy?

“Whatever.” He sighs, brushing the conversation to the side.

You want to continue, but you’re almost scared to. You could just walk back up to the upper deck and continue tanning, or you could even go for a swim, but instead, you stay right where you are. You subconsciously start to play with a loose string on the shirt that you had slipped back on before coming down to Harry.

“I’m not uptight, by the way.” You say after a few moments of silence. 

He scoffs, “Yes you are.”

“How so?” You’d love to hear him explain this one, even though it’ll probably either hurt you even more or infuriate you. But you’d like to know why he thinks you’re so uptight,

“You think you’re better than everyone, especially your friends. You have the money to do what you want but you turn your nose up at the finer things in life and give all of us dirty looks when we drink from the top shelf or buy something super expensive.” You’re speechless for a moment, but he doesn’t seem to be done, so it doesn’t really matter. “You act like there’s something better about you getting cheap tequila and wearing the same clothes over and over again. Well, think about it this way, yeah, I buy from the top shelf and I wear a lot of new clothes, but most of those clothes, I get sent. Most of them I don’t even pay for. Which honestly, you’ll probably find to be worse. But yeah, you’re uptight.”

After a moment, the words ignite a fire in you. “First of all, that shows how little you know about me, Styles. I don’t have the money to do what I want. I have money, sure. But not that much. I have enough money from my job to pay for rent, bills, food, and then have a little bit to splurge on myself.” You really don’t want to have this conversation with him, you don’t like to talk about your financial situation with anyone, let alone him. “But nowhere near enough to spend excessive amounts on alcohol or drop almost a grand on a striped t-shirt with a pig on it that’s literally the size of my fingernail. Not all of us can be big shot CEO’s or superstars.”

He looks shocked by your words, which just further added to your point. He didn’t know you, not at all. He pretended to know you, made assumptions about you, all of which seemed to make him hate you more and more.

“Well you still give us dirty looks.” You almost snort at his feeble attempt to save his argument.

“I literally don’t but okay. I don’t really care what you think about me. Hate me if you want to. You’ll be annoying either way.” You turn on your heel to get as far away from his as possible, but he stops you with his words.

“I’m not annoying.” This time, you actually do let out a chuckle. Him thinking that he’s not an annoying little prick is honestly better comedy than the specials they try to run on TV.

“The fuck you aren’t, Harry. All you do is make snide comments.” Who did he think he was? A saint?

“I do not. Don’t start your shit, Y/N.” He glares at you, but his looks don’t have the effect that he wishes this time, they just add fuel to the fire still burning bright inside of you.

“Don’t start my shit?” You snicker. He has to be fucking kidding. “You tell me how trashy I look in outfits that I think I look great in. You tell me my makeup looks like shit and that if I was trying to impress someone, I failed, even though all I do is put it on for myself. You tell me to stop trying so hard to get attention when I’m literally trying to blend in as much as possible.” You’re trying to hold the emotion back, to not cry in front of him, because you’ve already spent enough time crying over the things that he’s said. “You call me a slut when I have a one night stand like you don’t literally bring a different girl hom every fucking night. So I don’t wanna hear it, Harry.”

If looks could kill, the one that he’s giving you at the moment would have you six feet under. “You don’t fucking know me. I don’t bring a new girl home every night, you make me sound like a fuckboy.” 

You roll your eyes. “I could make you sound a lot worse. And maybe there’s not one every night, but there’s at least one a week, and I have a one night stand what, maybe once every couple months? If even that?” You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, maybe I don’t know you, but that’s not my fault. I didn’t make the choice to not know you. You pushed me away the second you met me, even though I did nothing to you. You didn’t let me know you. But you don’t know me either.” The tears are gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You look up towards the sky, trying to make them subside. Once you feel confident enough in the fact that they won’t drop, you look back at him. “You’re not just annoying, you’re a dick. The shit you say? God, if you knew how much that shit can hurt someone.”

“Don’t come at me and say that any of that hurts you. You fire right back and then go on with your day.” The smirk that he has plastered on his face makes you want to knock him into a new dimension, but you compose yourself. He isn’t worth it.

“Yeah, of course I just let it roll off my shoulders while I’m around you. Have you ever thought about why that is? About why I seem to not care?” Your voice has slowly but surely become louder. “It’s because I’m not going to cry my eyes out and let myself wonder if maybe you’re right, that maybe I do look like shit and should cover up as much of my body as possible, right in front of you!” By the end, you’re screaming, and you don’t even care. 

You take a deep breath and continue, “I can’t give you the fucking satisfaction. Because Lord knows that you’ll just hold that over my head too.”

That seems to have some sort of effect on him. His face falls almost immediately, that god awful smirk disappearing. His eyes seem to get softer, and a part of you wants to walk over and hug him. But you don’t. Of course you don’t. He’s the guy you hate the most.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” He mumbles as you’re getting ready to head back to the upper deck.

“I’m sorry.” He tries, but you’re not going to let him off the hook that easy.

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it, Harry. It’s not like you're even sorry anyway. You don’t care about me, so don’t start acting like you do now.” With that, you turn on your heel and make your way back up to continue tanning.

Once you get back to your towel, you let the few stray tears fall. You hate that he has the power to make you cry, but you can’t help it. He just gets to you, regardless of how hard you try to guard yourself from him.

He comes up after a few minutes and you look over at him, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m going for a swim. If you need anything, I’ll be in the water.” He states, and you turn back around.

“Have fun.” You spit, the words laced with sarcasm. 

He doesn’t reply. You hear his footsteps receding and then a splash signaling that he’s jumped off of the boat.

For some reason, you have a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. At first, you ignore it, but then you stop hearing the sloshing of the water. You can’t help but let yourself get a little panicked. You may not be the biggest fan of the guy, but you can’t just let him drown.

You stand up from your spot on the towel and walk over to the side of the boat that you heard the initial splash come from.

You make your way back down to where you and Harry had fought. You grimace at the thought. Had that really been one of the last things he ever heard? No, you can’t think like that. 

You look to your right and notice that all four life jackets are still hooked on the railing. Of course he didn’t take a life jacket. Anything could have happened to him and now you wouldn’t even be able to float. He could be sinking to the bottom, never to be found again.

Yeah, he can swim. He’s actually a really good swimmer, but he could have hit his head on the boat when he jumped in. Or he could have dove down under the water and ended up getting caught on something. 

You rush over to slip one of the life jackets and grab an extra. The last thing that you needed was to find him and not be able to drag him back to the boat because he’s too heavy.

You jump in, the life jacket keeping you afloat. With there being no need to concentrate on not drowning, you focus all your efforts on finding Harry. You can’t see him anywhere in the general vicinity, so you start looking under the water as long as you’re able to.

You’re trying your hardest, but you can’t find him. 

You start to panic. Suddenly you find it hard to breathe and the tears are streaming down your face. You immediately blame yourself. You should have just stopped earlier, should’ve realized that there’s a better time to argue with him. Maybe if you had just been a little nicer, the two of you could have gotten along for the day. Why didn’t you just stop? Why didn’t you at least accept his apology?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a strong pair of arms wrapping around you. You scream, not knowing who it could possibly be. You twist in their arm, realizing that it was only Harry.

You push away from him. “What the fuck, Harry? I thought you died!”

“Really? And you came out here to look for me?” He asks, and for a moment, you think he might be grateful, but you can already see the smirk forming on his lips. You choose to ignore it for the moment, though.

“Yeah, I couldn’t hear you swimming around anymore and I thought maybe you had hit your head on something or gotten pulled under or something like that. Where were you?” You’re trying to wipe the tears off of your face, but your hands are just as soaked as your face, so it does absolutely no use.

“The other side of the boat, why didn’t you just check over there?” His smirk is present in full force now.

“I don’t know, slipped my mind, I guess.” You mumble, knowing that this could have all been avoided if you had just looked on the other side of the boat.

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” He chuckles.

You push even further away from him, throwing the life jacket you had brought for him in his face. “You’re such a fucking dick! Sorry that I cared too fucking much about your life to check the entire perimeter of the boat before trying to save you!”

You can’t believe him. You didn’t think of one thing, in the heat of the moment, and now you’re stupid? Wow. Okay, next time you’ll just let him drown.

You start to swim back towards the boat. He’s following you, but you don’t care enough to acknowledge it.

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.” You don’t even turn back to him.

“Problem is, Styles, you really are that heartless.” You spit, climbing back onto the boat, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

He clambers up after you, trying to get your attention. You actively ignore him, though.

He grabs your wrist, wrapping his fingers around the joint. You spin on your heel.

“Let me go, Harry.” you demand.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His eyes are pleading with you, but you genuinely can’t care any less. 

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” You throw his words back at him.

His face immediately falls, not liking how the words hurt him. He deserves it though. All you were trying to do was help him and he was an absolute prick. 

You storm back up to your towel, laying down and trying to dry yourself off. 

Not too long after you head back up, he brings you a sandwich that he made with the supplies he had packed in the cooler.

“Thought you might be hungry.” He mumbles when he sits the plate down. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, just turns back and heads to where he came from.

You wait until he’s gone to eat, only doing so because it’s already made and you wouldn’t want the food to go to waste.

*

What seems like eons later, but was definitely only hours, Lexi and Sam get dropped off at the boat by a random couple you’ve never seen before.

You rush down to where they are.

“Did you guys get any closer?” Sam asks. 

You just roll your eyes and stick your hand out. “If you don’t hand the keys back this fucking instant, I will not hesitate to jump off this boat and swim back to the docks.”

Lexi looks at you with wide eyes and hands over the keys. The moment that you have them in your hands, you stomp over to Harry and chuck them at him.

“Drive this stupid ass boat back to the docks, and don’t you dare fuck around or you’ll get thrown overboard and I won’t bother to come looking for you.” He doesn’t argue with you, just picks up the keys and makes his way to the wheel.

“What happened?” Lexi questions, but you just brush her off.

“Ask him, he’ll tell you with a fucking smirk on his face.” You walk over to the bench and sit down, not wanting to talk to anyone else throughout the trip back.

*

It only registers with you that you’ll have to ride back to the house with Harry after you get to the docks.

“I’m walking home.” You announce, knowing that it’ll only take fifteen minutes tops to get back to the rental.

“What are you talking about?” Harry and Sam ask at the same time.

You ignore Harry, turning back to Sam. “I’m walking back to the house. It shouldn’t take me long, and there’s no way in hell I’m riding with him.”

With that, you turn and start walking. The road is secluded, lined by trees.

After a few minutes, they drive up to you. Harry rolls down his window. “Y/N, come on, I’ll walk if it’s that big of a deal.”

You raise your hand, flipping him off. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your Gucci shoes.”

He sighs, rolling the window back up and continuing to drive. He knows better than to argue with you right now. There’s no way that he’ll win.

You slow your stride, wanting to prolong the walk as long as possible. You only speed back up when the clouds start to turn into a viscous shade of gray.

The one thing that could bother you more than Harry is thunderstorms. And you can tell by the state of the sky that a bad one’s coming.

*

You sneak back into the house, pushing the door open as quietly as possible. Thankfully, there’s nobody in the living room. Everyone seems to have retired to their rooms. 

As you’re creeping down the hallway, you hear Harry talking to Lexi. Her door is slightly ajar and you can’t help but stop and listen.

“No, no. Lexi, I know. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have called her stupid. All she was trying to do was help me. God, I’m such a fucking idiot.” You can hear his voice waiver and you think for a moment that he might be crying. You quickly push the thought from your mind. Why would Harry be crying over you?

“Yeah, you did fuck up. Harry, this isn’t how you treat people that you care about.” Every trace of air leaves your lungs at that. Since when does Harry care about you? You want to blame it on him lying, but why would he? It’s just Lexi. And they have no way of knowing that you’re here. He must be telling the truth. 

“I know, I know. We were arguing before then, She told me about how shitty I make her feel and it absolutely tore my heart into pieces. I don’t mean to make her feel that way.” You can’t deny that he’s crying, hearing the sob come less than a millisecond after he finishes.

“I know that, H. But she doesn’t, She thinks you get a kick out of hurting her. She really thinks you hate her.” You can visualize what she’s doing, knowing how she comforts like the back of your hand. She’s running her hand over Harry’s back, trying to soothe him. And if that doesn’t work, she’ll push his hair back and wipe the tears from his face, tell him that it’ll all be okay.

“I’m aware. But I don’t, I hate hurting her. That’s what I hate, not her.” If he doesn't hate you, then why does he act the way that he does?

“Then go show her.” You smile, Lexi knows you so well. She knows that you judge people off their actions. And that you don’t believe a word anyone says until they show you that their words actually mean something.

“Alright. I will when she gets home.” The determination in his voice makes your heart swell. 

You hear him get off of his bed and you scurry to your room, not wanting to face him, and really not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. You slip inside and close your door just in the nick of time. Half a second after you’re out of sight, you hear his feet padding along the hallway to his room.

You sigh, a million thoughts running through your head. 

Could he really care about you?

If he does, why is he so rude to you all the time?

How does he expect to make this up to you?

You decided to take a shower. Not only to get clean, but also to clear your head. The second the water hits your skin, you know that there’s no way this shower is going to be as quick as you had planned. For a long time, you just stand under the stream of water, letting your mind run rampant with the thoughts of Harry. 

Is it a good thing that he could care about you? Sure, you see how he is with everyone else, and you’ve always craved to have that with him. And hating him is absolutely exhausting, most of the time you’d rather just fall into the easy conversation that he’s able to have with the rest of his friends. 

But would it be that easy? Probably not. Nothing was ever that easy when it came to him.

Are you willing to work for it? If Harry takes the initiative and tries to show you that he does care, then yes.

Once you come to that conclusion, you realize just how long that you’ve been in the shower. Your body is starting to prune, and the water has gotten significantly cooler.

You step out and throw on the shirt that you slept in the night before, but not slipping on the shorts.

You open the bathroom door and trudge over to the bed, flopping down and switching the lamp off. 

Usually, you could never fall asleep comfortably during storms, but after the day that you’ve had, your eyes are shut and sleep is overtaking you in mere moments.

*

Far too soon, you’re being shaken awake. 

The first thing you notice is that it’s dark outside. Who in their right minds is waking you up before sunrise, you don’t know.

The second thing you notice is the chill of someone’s cold rings on your skin. The contact makes a shiver run down your spine. 

You immediately roll over and face him. The sight of him is not great. He’s soaked from head to toe, water dripping on the floor. You almost have the nerve to scold him for not drying off, but then you realize that he has no reason to be wet. What did he do? What happened to him?

“When did you get home?” He asks, voice sticking in his throat.

“Earlier. Why are you wet?” Your voice is hoarse from sleep and you pray that you don’t sound revolting.

“Went out in the storm.” He shrugs. “None of us heard you come home. I guess when I checked in here earlier you were in the shower or something.”

“Why did you guys go looking? You could’ve just called or texted.” You say, then realize that you may have seemed ungrateful. “Not that I’m complaining, thanks for worrying about me.”

“Well, you see, Sam and Lexi thought you’d be fine. You know the way home, after all. They just thought you had stopped somewhere to cool off and wait out the storm. I went looking though, I was really worried. And I didn’t text or call because I, um, don’t exactly have your phone number.” He lets out a dry chuckle, running his hands through his hair.

Your heart swells. Harry went looking for you. He walked right out into a thunderstorm because he was worried that you were stuck out there by yourself.

“Hey, um, so I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything, but I heard a snippet of your conversation with Lexi earlier while I was walking to my room.” You gulp, hoping he doesn’t think you’re creepy or anything. “Did you really mean what you said?”

“Which part did you hear?” His question is laced with anxiety and he looks like he’s seconds away from passing out.

“Um, from the part where you said you fucked up and didn’t really hate me.” You mumble.

“Yeah, I meant every word. I also meant it when I said I was gonna show you that I care about you.” He looks up, meeting your eyes. You can’t help the feeling you get in your chest. This man just went out into the pouring rain, lightning falling all around him, just to look for you.

“I think you already did, H.” Regardless of how he treated you in the past. Hell, how he treated you in the past twenty four hours, you can’t help but see tha the really does care about you. Lexi and Sam, the two people in the house who were supposed to not hate you in the slightest didn’t even go looking, but the one person who was supposed to not give a fuck about whether you’re breathing or not did.

“Did you- you just called me H?” He stumbles, and a smile comes to your face.

“Yeah? So?” He said it like it was a good thing, but you could never be too sure with him.

“So, you’ve never done that before.” His expression is unreadable. Usually you can tell exactly what he’s thinking, but right now you’re coming up blank.

“Do you not want me to? I can stop saying it.” You wouldn’t ever want to do something that he’s uncomfortable with, you just thought that’s what everyone called him.

“No!” he blurts. “No, please don’t stop. I like the way it sounds coming from you.”

“Alright.” you grin “H.”

The smile that breaks out over his face is the biggest that you’ve ever seen. “Wait, what did you mean I already did?” He wonders. 

 “You just risked getting sick to go out in the pouring rain to try to find me.” Which reminds you, if he doesn’t get in a warm shower and some dry clothes soon, he’s going to catch something.

“It’s the least I could do.” His cheeks are turning a light shade of pink, and you really hope that it’s a blush and not him being cold.

“Yeah, but that shows me that you care, H.” You say, getting up from the bed and checking to see if you had brought the extra sweatpants and sweatshirt. Unfortunately, you hadn’t. 

“I’m sorry, by the way. Like really sorry. I hate myself for what I said. I’m so stupid. You were just trying to save me and I was a dick.” You appreciate the sentiment, you really do, but right now, that’s not your concern.

“It’s fine.” You mumble, because, really, it is.

“No, it’s not.” He doesn’t want to believe it, but it really is. You wouldn’t be letting him drip excessive amounts of water on the floor if you were still mad at him. 

“Yes, H, it is. Now come on, let me go get you some clean clothes. Go get in the shower, there are towels in the bathroom.” You’ve come to the realization that you’d have to retrieve his clothes, seeing as you hadn’t exactly planned for something like this.

“Y/n, it’s fine. I can just go take a shower in my room.” He tries, but you immediately refuse.

“No. You can take one in here so I know that you take one and don’t just change into dry clothes.” The look he gives you lets you know that was exactly what he was planning to do.

“I’m not gonna win this, am I?” You chuckle, pleased that he knows well enough to not argue with you any further on this.

“Not a chance, now get your ass in there.” You put your hands on his shoulders and nudge him towards the bathroom. You try your hardest to not think about the way his muscles ripple underneath your digits.

“Alright, alright. I’m going.” He concedes, trodding into the bathroom.

You wait until you hear the water running before you exit the room to find his clothes. You make the journey to his room, grabbing boxers and a pair of sweatpants from his bag. You don’t bother trying to find a shirt, knowing from the countless times that he’s stripped out of one to take a nap at a friends house that he never wears them to bed.

You make your way back to your room, sitting the clothes down on the small table sat outside the bathroom door.

His vast collection of rings is placed on the table as well. He must have taken them off and sat them there after you left. 

Without thinking, your hand reaches out and picks up the rose ring that adorns his hand more often than not. It’s gorgeous, and you can’t stop your fingertips from running across the designs. The band is etched with leaves and vines, and upon further inspection, you feel that there’s a little caterpillar seemingly hidden on the inner part of the ring.

It’s heavy in your hand and you can't help but wonder just how much metal was used to make this ring. It’s obvious that it was hand etched, so your mind tries to picture how big the piece was before the carving started.

After a few moments, you place it back on the table, picking up his Cartier ring. You wonder for a moment how something so simple could cost the ridiculous price that it did. Sure, it’s absolutely gorgeous, but the price tag that you know it carries is enough to make the appeal fade. You don’t have the luxury of dropping thousands on a ring.

He opens the door and you immediately drop the ring, cheeks burning from being caught. You know how much he adores his rings, and you’re scared for a split second that you’ve overstepped, crossed a boundary that he wouldn’t be comfortable with.

All your worries are washed away, though, when he says, “Wear it.” He reaches over for his clothes, a towel wrapped around his waist.

You gawk at him. Was he serious? “H, I can’t do that.” You go to scramble away, before your eyes get caught on the way that the water droplets from the shower cling to him, the sheen making his tattoos even more vivid. God, what you would do to trace every line and seemingly miniscule detail.

He gives you a soft smile, and your heart speeds up to a rate that has to be unhealthy, especially since you’re sitting still, your back rimrod straight. “Yes you can. Go ahead, put it on.” He urges.

You sigh, picking up the Cartier ring that you had been admiring moments prior and slip it on your ring finger, that being the one you wear all rings on. You glance up at him through your lashes and you can see the way that his eyes seem to have lit up. You try to ignore the way your stomach flutters, the butterflies going absolutely wild.

He chuckles, looking down at your finger, where the ring sits, looking about five sizes too small. You join along, letting a lighthearted laugh slip through your lips. It truly was ginormous on you, but you expected no less. He does have large hands, after all.

“I’ve got a chain around here somewhere, keep the ring.” He says nonchalantly, like he’s not gifting you a fucking Cartier ring.

“Harry, no, it’s too expensive.” You can’t possibly accept this ring, so you really hope that he doesn’t fight you on it. You’re pretty sure you’d say yes to just about anything if he keeps looking at you like he’s just seen the most precious thing in the world.

“If you don’t keep it and wear it, I’ll never wear it again, so it might as well be worn by you.” He argues, giving you the stern look that you know well. It’s always the one that says not to argue back, that he’ll just continue pestering you if you do.

Knowing that the argument would go on for hours on end if you didn’t, you reluctantly agree.

He gives a triumphant smile before returning to the bathroom, clothes in hand.

A moment later, he comes back out into your room and your ability to breathe is gone. You swear he’s the most perfect person you’ve ever seen. Sure, you’ve seen how pretty he is before, but you’ve never let yourself truly see how perfect he is. Maybe you prematurely judged that article. Maybe they had a point. 

The muscles in his upper body ripple under his tan skin, making your mouth damn near water. You avert your eyes from his shoulders to his chest, admiring the butterfly inked onto his abdomen. You had always adored that tattoo, at times you even wished that you had thought of the idea before he had. You see the way that the ferns underneath trace his lower stomach, the endings leading a trail right to the band of his sweatpants. 

God, why would you get him gray sweatpants? At this view, your mouth actually does water, wondering how good he would look with even less on.

Him shuffling over to pick up his rings is what breaks you out of your trance, your cheeks heating up from the thoughts that had been running through your mind.

He places each of the rings carefully back on his hands, sans the Cartier ring. He left that one on the table, looking up at you with a smirk.

He begins to make his way out the door, but you stop him.

“H,” you give him your best puppy eyes when he stops and looks over his shoulder at you, “Will you stay with me? I’m scared of thunderstorms.”

“Are you really?” He doesn’t say it in a mocking way, it’s more in a perplexed way. You’re not confused by this in the slightest, as far as he used to be concerned, you’re not scared of anything.

“Yeah,” you admit, “but I also want to get to know you. Feel like we’ve missed a lot while hating each other.”

He sighs, “Never hated you.”

You smile, “I know, I know, but I thought you did. Made me not able to get to know you very well.”

“Alright.” He agrees. “Let me go put my rings up and get that chain for you and then I’ll stay.”

You wait patiently as he does just that, wondering why you had never just taken the time to talk to him before. Would it really have been that simple? 

“Here you are.” He speaks when he reenters the room, walking over to the stand and placing the ring on the chain. Once he’s done, he gently sets it back down, ensuring that the chain doesn’t get tangled, and then trudges over to you.

He sits on the edge of the bed, probably just intending to stay until you fall asleep, and at first you’re fine with that. But then you start to get progressively more tired, and your clinginess starts kicking in, that fact that you’re touch starved not helping.

“H.” you groan, making his ears perk up and his eyes snap to yours.

“Hmm?” he wonders.

You make grabby hands at him. “Come cuddle with me.”

A smile breaks out on his face and your stomach does the flippy thing that makes your heart race.

He slowly crawls towards you, as if he’s giving you enough time to take back your words, to give him any sign that you regret ever asking him to come up to you. Once he’s right beside you and you’ve made no move to stop him, he slips under the covers and pulls you close.

You immediately sigh in content and place your head on his chest, the sleepiness taking over more and more as you listen to his heartbeat against your ear.

RIght before you completely drift off, you mumble, “You’re not as bad as I thought you were.” You hope he hears you, but you don’t have the time to check, sleep overtaking your body and pulling you under.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you let your eyes stay shut, not wanting to be greeted with the sunlight just yet.

You shift slightly and realize that you’re still laying with Harry. You can feel his solid chest under your head, your legs are tangled with his. 

After a moment, you can feel him looking at you, “It’s rude to stare, H.” You joke, expecting him to laugh.

He doesn’t, though, instead he just whispers, “Can’t help it. You’re beautiful.” 

You immediately blush, burning under the compliment. You’re still not used to being this close to Harry in general, but receiving compliments from him is even weirder.

“Can I tell you something?” You look up at him, waiting for him to accept your question.

“Yeah, anything.” He holds eye contact with you, your faces mere inches apart. You could very easily push yourself up and attach your lips to his, but you refrain, not wanting to push too far. You had just started really talking to each other last night.

“I never hated you either.” You say, the words barely audible. You’re ashamed of it, of the fact that you pretended to hate him, probably making everything worse than it had to be.

“Really?” He looks hopeful, like he’s praying that you’re not joking with him. 

“Really. I just thought that you hated me. Figured that we should at least balance each other out.” You let out a humorless laugh, trying to make light of the situation, but you still can’t shake the guilt. You probably could have been lying in bed with him a long time ago had you just made it clear that you didn’t hate him.

“So all this time, neither one of us hated the other, but we both thought we did?” He has a smirk etched on his face, and a very large part of you wants to close the space between the two of you. You can’t handle the smirk right now, not when his chestnut curls are framing his face the way that they are. Not when his bare chest is still pressed against you, warming you up in the most delightful way.

“Basically.” You can’t help but giggle. The situation really is quite ridiculous.

You move to get up and he pouts, holding onto you and trying to get you to stay in his arms, he’s enjoying the warmth that you’re radiating. 

“Where are you going?” He whines, making your throat constrict. He sounds so pretty when he whines.

“I’ve gotta pee, I’ll be right back.” You promise, knowing that the words will soothe him.

“Don’t go…” He tries giving you puppy dog eyes, but they won’t work this time, not when you can feel the urge to use the bathroom growing.

“I have to pee, but I promise I’ll come back to exactly where I was when I’m done.” You reach over to him and push a stray curl behind his ears, reveling in how soft that his hair is.

“Good, I wanna keep cuddling.” He mumbles, and you can’t help but feel the butterflies return yet again. You can’t believe that Harry was just begging you to stay curled up in bed with him.

It all seems a little off, having him in your bed, cuddling with you. Less than twenty four hours prior, you were screaming at each other on a boat about how much you can’t stand each other, and now neither of you do? You come to find out that the both of you were faking it this entire time? The entire situation is a little confusing, but you’re a lot happier with it than you were with being at each other's throats all the time.

Now that the two of you are being more honest with each other, you figure it’s probably time to start being more honest with yourself. And that starts with admitting the feelings that you’ve been suppressing for him. 

You had seen how attractive he was the moment that you had even laid eyes on one of the numerous articles about him. You aren’t shallow though, that’s not what made you have the feelings that you had developed for him. You could also see just how nice he was to everyone else, how he lit up every room that he walked into. How everyone was always put into a better mood just by his presence. You began to fall for that version of himself, the one that he was with everyone else. You had caught feelings before he even said a word to you. There were times when you had been at the same party or event, and you’d be able to feel the effect he had on everyone else. And at first, that was intimidating, but then you felt a pull to him. Like the two of you were magnets and were destined to be together.

But then you actually talked to him, and everything went south.

Now, though, you’ve realized that he’s only like he is with you because he thought that you hated him. Which is absurd to you, but you were quite distant that night. You had been overwhelmed, thinking that you were inferior to him in every way that night. Maybe that’s why he thought that you hated him, because you didn’t show that much interest, because you seemed like you didn’t want to get to know him.

You don’t really know how to process that information. This entire thing had initially been your fault, had you just gotten over yourself and realized that you’re good enough to talk to him, all of this could have been avoided.

As you wash your hands and get ready to exit the bathroom, you can’t help but wonder what everything’s going to be like. How are you going to act around each other? Is it gonna change? Are you still going to bicker or are you going to act like everything’s perfectly fine? 

You scoff at yourself, of course you’re still going to bicker, that’s who you are. Plus, nobody’s perfect, all friends argue about something at points.

When you come out of the bathroom he’s sitting on the end of the bed. You raise your eyebrows in question. “Thought we were gonna keep cuddling?” 

He quickly rises when he sees you. “Had a slightly better idea.” He holds out his hand and waits for you to take it.

“I’m more of a touchy kind of person.” He starts after you take his hand. “I show that I care about people by physical touches.” He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. “If we’re gonna tell them that we don’t hate each other, we’ve got to at least make it believable.”

“Stop making it sound like we’re pretending.” You laugh. “You just cuddled with me throughout the night. There’s no way in hell we hate each other. But yeah, I’m that way too, so I don't mind the touches.” You assure, pulling back and reconnecting your hands.

He gives you a reassuring look as you walk out of your room and into the sitting room. Sam and Lexi stop the conversation they were having immediately and look over at the two of you. Their jaws are on the floor within moments, obviously not believing what they're seeing. 

“Why are you holding hands?” Sam blurts, breaking the silence that had blanketed the room.

“H, you only do that with girls you’re dating or girls that you’re friends with. What’s happening?” Lexi adds, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes.

“Wanna explain?” Harry asks, squeezing your hand.

“Sure.” You say.

You begin to explain it to them, making sure to get all the details. Harry’s mostly quiet beside you, only inputting anything when you forget something.

For a moment after you finish, the silence is back. Lexi and Sam look at you like you’re absolutely insane. After a minute of letting their brains process the information, they finally let smiles break out on their faces, jumping up from the couch to hug the both of you, excited that you guys can finally get along.

*

After a little while of the four of you sitting around and talking, it’s decided that everyone should go out on the yacht. This time, though, nobody will be stealing any keys.

Once you get out to the desired spot on the water and anchor the boat, you turn to Harry. “Hey, H?” 

“Yeah, love?” He used the term like it’s no big deal, but it makes your stomach churn in the best way possible.

“Wanna go swimming? Promise not to think you’ve drowned again.” You chuckle.

Harry doesn’t seem as amused though, still feeling guilty about how he treated you. “Sure, promise not to be a dick again.”

You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your head into his chest. “I told you it was alright, H. Stop beating yourself up over it.”

He sighs, nodding his head. You grab his hand, pulling him along the deck to the edge of the boat.

“Wanna jump together?” You look over at him and see the smile break out across his face, the dimples and eye crinkles out in full force.

“Yeah, love, let’s do it.” Before you can think too much about the second use of the word, he’s counting down from three and then you’re jumping, body submerging into the crystal water.

If you had been paying more attention to anyone besides Harry, you would have seen the way that Lexi and Sam were caught up in watching you, wondering how in the world the two of you had done a full one eighty in less that twenty four hours. Sure, they wanted the two of you to get along, but they never expected you to get this close as fast as you did.

After a while of swimming around with Harry, you decide to get out and try to tan, seeing as not everyone can be actors that get paid to go swimming and get tans.

As you do so, you can feel Harry’s eyes on your body, but you choose not to acknowledge it. For a moment, you want to invite him to come tan with you, but you don’t want to make your feelings too obvious to him.

*

When it starts to get dark, Lexi proposes that everyone head back to the deck. You agree, ready to go home and get out of your bikini. 

Harry tries to get you to drive the yacht, even trying to teach you, but to no avail, you have absolutely no skill when it comes to driving boats.

Once you get to the docks and clamber off the yacht, the group splits up, Lexi and Sam going towards their car while you and Harry head towards his.

“Are you hungry, darling?” He ponders once you’re settled in the car.

“I mean a little bit, why?” You reach over to turn on the radio, letting the soft sounds of music play through the car.

“I saw this cute little diner when I was looking for you last night.” He says, handing you his phone. “Plug up the aux cord and play something from Spotify.”

You scroll through his spotify, seeing that his work out playlist is just One Direction songs. You almost snort, but don’t want to give away the song you’re going to choose.

After another moment of scrolling, you turn the volume on the speakers all the way up, clicking on “What Makes You Beautiful” and letting the opening chords play through the car.

He smirks, looking over at you. “I hope you know that you’re expected to scream this with me.”

Your features mirror his, “Oh, trust me, I planned on it.”

*

When you reach the diner, you see just how cute it really is. But then you realize that the two of you had been in the car for almost twenty minutes, which arguably isn’t a long time, but to walk this far it would have taken forever.

“H, you walked this far looking for me?” You ask, although you already know the answer.

“Yeah. Well, technically, I walked further.” He blushes at his words and your heart melts in your chest. You can’t help but feel a little guilty, though. It had been storming, full on thunder and lightning every few seconds. He could have gotten hurt, yet he put his safety to the side because he thought that you hadn’t come home yet. If only you had put aside your pettiness and just let everyone know that you had arrived home safely, he wouldn’t have had to walk out in the storm at all.

You walk into the diner, shaking the thoughts from your head. Harry leads you to a booth near the back, one that’s placed right next to a window with a wonderful view.

Moments after you’re settled into your seat, a waiter comes up to you and takes your order. You notice that he’s paying special attention to you, and it makes you slightly uncomfortable, so you turn to Harry after reciting your order. “What do you want, baby?”

He gives you a questioning look but ultimately goes along with it, not even missing a beat. He gives his order to the waiter and waits until he walks away to turn back to you. “What was that about?”

“He was staring at me, looking me up and down, it made me really uncomfortable.” You say, looking down at your hands. “Thought if he believed we were together that he’d stop, which he didn’t.” You scoff at the audacity of the waiter. “Sorry if I ended up just making you uncomfortable too.”

He reaches over the table, taking your hands in his. “Hey, it’s alright. I wasn’t uncomfortable, just took me by surprise, is all.” He gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “If he comes back over and makes eyes at you, I’ll put him in his place, okay?”

You chuckle, nodding at him. Hopefully, the waiter would get caught up with other customers or would learn some manners so that he didn’t say anything, but either way, you knew you’d be okay.

“So, anyways, how can you be so bad at driving the yacht? It’s just a boat.” Harry asks, obviously trying to hold in a laugh.

“It’s really not that hard to be bad at it.” You defend. “I know plenty of people that can’t drive a boat.”

“Have they ever tried?” His eyebrows raise.

“No.” You mumble, flicking your eyes from his gaze.

“Well that explains that.” He pauses until you meet his gaze again. “No, but seriously, it’s way easier to drive than a car.”

You clear your throat. “I’m not that good at that either, H.” 

“Really?” He looks embarrassed, sorry to have pushed you, like he was worried that he had gone too far. 

You really didn’t mind, though, it’s not something you’re ashamed of, you just don’t really like driving. “Really. Ever noticed how I don’t drive anywhere?”

His eyes widen in realization. “Yeah, actually. If nobody else is available, I used to drive you places.” 

“Yeah, well, that’s because I suck at driving.” You say, looking down at your hands, which you realize are still being held by his. “I just feel more comfortable with other people driving me around.”

You feel him squeeze your hands again, the rings biting into your skin slightly. “I thought maybe you just didn’t have a car.”

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting his. You flash him a dirty look and go to pull your hands from his. Before you can, though, he squeezes tighter, making you stop for a moment.

“Not like that! It’s just that everything you do is in close proximity to your house.” Your hateful look subsides. You had seemed to forget for a moment that you weren’t enemies anymore. You were… friends? “There’s not really a need for you to have a car unless you were to drive somewhere far away, but usually that’s only for work and you fly.” He continues.

“Well, yeah, that’s true. But I do have a car, I just prefer not to drive it myself.” He nods his head, seeming to understand enough to let it slide.

You fall into a comfortable silence, his hands still clutching yours. You let your eyes scan over his face before wandering back to his seafoam green eyes. God, his eyes are beautiful. Everything about him is beautiful, honestly.

You’re broken out of your examination of him by the waiter coming back with your food and beverage choices. He sits Harry’s down first, and then places yours down. He doesn’t look at Harry again, just looking at you as he asks if there’s anything else that’s needed. You see his eyes trail downwards, and you give Harry’s hand a squeeze, causing him to clear his throat at the manager.

“Excuse me, sir?” This catches the waiter’s attention, making him turn back to Harry. “Could you maybe not eye fuck my girlfriend right in front of me?”

The waiter balks at him, and then tries to deny it. “I- I wasn’t!”

“Let’s not lie about it, you definitely were.” His voice is raspy and it makes your heart rate pick up. “And you were making her uncomfortable, so how about you explain to one of your coworkers why you need to switch them tables, yeah?”

The waiter just nods, walking away without so much as a glance back.

“Thank you, H.” He doesn’t reply, just squeezes your hands to let you know you’re alright. He lets go to eat, but you can see the way that his jaw is clenched.

“Hey, what’s up, you’re tense.” You try to meet his eyes, but he won’t look at you.

“I just don’t like the way he was looking at you.” He mumbles. 

You make the split second decision to walk over to his side of the booth and slide in next to him. He immediately makes room for you, lifting up his arm so you can crawl into his side.

“I’m alright, you know. I just don’t like being looked at like an object.” You whisper into his side.

“I know, love. I know you’re alright, you’re strong.” He squeezes you closer to him and you feel a smile come to your face. “And I don’t like it either. I’ll punch him next time he looks at you like that.”

You reach up and run your hand through his hair, smiling at him. He leans into your touch, and that’s when you realize just how close you are. He’s got you pulled into his side, one of your thighs is slung over his, and your faces are what seems to be only a few millimeters apart.

Every part of you wants to close the difference, to press your lips to his. Every fiber of your being wants to know what his lips feel like, wants to know how they taste. You don’t lean in, though, not wanting to ruin what the two of you have going on.

You look back down, pulling your food over to you and finishing your meal.

After the check is paid, he drives you home, the only sounds in the car being the radio and the tap of his fingers against the steering wheel. 

*

The next day flows by smoothly, everyone just chilling on the yacht and going for a swim.

When you get back to the house that night, though, Sam and Lexi come to your room to tell you that they’ll be leaving early, babbling on about some really good sale on jeans or something. They ask if you want to go with them but you politely decline, having absolutely no interest in jeans that, even when on sale, probably cost thousands of dollars.

They bid you a goodnight and let you know that they’ll be leaving early in the morning, most likely before you get up.

You wish them a safe trip and then roll over in bed, thinking about what this would mean. It would just be you and Harry for a few days. Would you spend a bunch of time together? Would you even talk that much? 

You don’t know how to spend that much alone time with Harry, mostly because you’ve only been close enough to spend any amount of time with him for a few days.

You’re anxious, probably more than you have been in a while. You can feel your hands sweating and your breath getting caught in your throat.

Suddenly, a knock comes at your door and you immediately yell, “Come in!”

You expect it to be Lexi or Sam, but it’s Harry.

“Hey, don't you mind if I hang with you?” He asks, fiddling with his fingers. “I’m kinda bored, plus the other night I saw that mini puzzle you brought so I was thinking maybe we could do that?”

You smile at his observational skills. “Yeah, it’s no problem. Come on, I’ll get the puzzle.”

You walk over to the carry on that you had packed and grabbed the puzzle. It’s only a hundred pieces, but each one is so small and oddly shaped that you had never been able to get the placement right. You had figured you’d try to do so on this trip, but you hadn’t seemed to have the time.

You trudge back over to the bed, sitting down a piece of cardboard that you had found in a storage closet when exploring the closet a few days prior, and spread out the pieces.

You immediately get to work, him doing the same. Every time he would reach to grab a piece, his rings clack together, and you can’t help but gaze at them. You love the way that the rings look on him.

He looks over at you, catching you staring at his hands. He chuckles, before hopping off the bed, seeming to remember something.

“I’ll be right back.” He promises, not waiting for your response before coming back with one hand behind his back.

“Hold out your hand.” He demands, and you do so, holding out your right hand. “No, no, palm side down.” You flip your hand over and then he slides a ring onto your right hand. 

After it’s placed on your hand, you look down, realizing that it’s a replica of his rose ring, but this one actually fits you, which means that he would have to have bought it specifically for you.

You can feel your chest tightening and your eyes begin to get a little blurry. His gesture is so cute and all you want to do is wrap him up in your arms.

“H, when did you even get this?” You say, gesturing to the ring.

“The other day after everyone went to bed, I drove to London and got it.” He says, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “I saw you looking at it the other day, figured I’d get one that would fit you so that we could match.”

“Thank you, H. That’s so sweet of you.” You wrap your arms around him, and without thinking, you crawl into his lap, straddling him. “How do you even think of things like this?”

He doesn’t say anything about the way that you're sitting, just wraps his arms around your back and pulls you impossibly closer.

“When I’m not pretending to hate people, I’m actually pretty smart.” he chuckles, and you can feel the vibration of the action throughout your body.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Styles.” You mumble into his neck. “You’re still an idiot.”

“Hey!” He whines, pushing you off of him only to tackle you into the mattress, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

Subconsciously, you raise your hand up, digging into his hair and beginning to play with it. Neither of you say anything, just enjoying each other’s presence. After a while, you start to feel Harry getting heavier and heavier, his breathing getting more even. 

You try to stay in that position, loving the feeling of him wrapped up on you, but he’s a lot bigger than you and all the muscle he’s put on makes him a lot heavier than you can handle, the weight being too much on your chest and making you feel like you can’t breathe.

You roll him off of you, trying to be as gentle as possible so that you don’t wake him up, but you fail epicly. The second that you’ve got him completely off of you, he grabs your waist, pulling you over to lay on him like he was on you moments prior. Your legs are tucked between his, your face pressed into his neck. His warmth is radiating into your skin and his scent is swirling around you.

“Night, love.” He mumbles, angling his face down to kiss the top of your head.

“Night, H.” You murmur back, pulling the blanket over the two of you.

You focus on the way that his chest feels rising and falling underneath yours. You can feel his heartbeat, the way that it seems to be slightly faster than usual. You don’t think too much of it, though, he’s probably just hot.

Slowly, your thoughts begin to slow down, the prospect of a good night’s sleep pulling you further and further under until you’re dreaming about Harry.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you’re sweating. At first, you don’t think much of it, you were sandwiched between Harry and a wool blanket, after all. But then you realize that there’s something off with the way that Harry feels.

He’s radiating more heat than he normally does, which is already more than most people do.

You’re worried that he could be sick, so you scurry to the bathroom to find the thermometer that you saw when you first started staying in the house.

You make quick work of cleaning it off with an alcohol wipe, not wanting to risk him getting anything worse than he possibly already could have.

You shake him awake, ignoring his groans of protest, and make him put the thermometer under his tongue. You press the button and wait for it to beep, signifying that it’s done. 

You feel like you’re going to be sick when you look at the digital number that’s being presented to you. 102 degrees. That’s not ideal. 

“Hospital, H. Now.” You demand, not giving any room to argue on this. There’s no way that you’re going to let him lay in bed with a fever when you don’t even know what’s causing it. Maybe some people would, but you refuse. There are countless reasons why he could have this high of a fever, and each of them had different recommended treatments. You weren’t going to risk it and treat him for the wrong thing, only to make something worse.

He grumbles a “no” and you shake your head. Of course he would fight you on this.

“I’m not risking your life, H. Get the fuck up.” You wait for a moment, watching him shake his head no again. Once you know he won’t get up, you wrap your forearms underneath his arms and lift, dragging his lanky figure out of bed. 

Once he’s completely off the bed and standing next to you, you lift his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders so that you can support his weight. You grunt from the added stress on your shoulders.

You begin to make your way out to the car, making sure to stop on the way out the door to grab the keys from the hook and a water bottle from the fridge for him.

You unlock his car and all but shove him into the passenger seat, leaning across him and buckling his seatbelt for him.

Once that’s completed, you rush around the car and slip into the driver’s side, buckling your own seatbelt before inserting the key in the ignition and turning the car on.

“You hate driving, you can’t get me there.” He tries to argue, and you just laugh.

“You couldn’t drive even if you wanted to. Plus, I can get you there. I’ll be fine.” There’s no way that you were going to chicken out of this. Sure, you hated driving, but you hated the idea of something happening to him even more.

“No, y/n, it’s fine, if you don’t like driving you shouldn’t have to drive me.” The fact that he’s thinking of you right now, of all times, makes your heart rate quicken. How was he always so sweet? “I’ll be alright. I’ll just sweat it out.”

“No, Harry, you will not just sweat it out.” You say, rubbing a hand over your face. “You could die if it gets too much worse. There could be something seriously wrong. And you’re probably like this because you went out in the rain looking for me.” Sure, it’s been a few days, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t from that. The symptoms could have just not been showing up until now. “And trust me when I say that I am most definitely not letting you die.” You give him a look when he starts to protest again.

The drive to the hospital is shaky. There’s a few times where you think you’re going to freak out, but each time, Harry reaches his hand over and squeezes your knee in reassurance and you instantly feel your breathing even out again. 

Thankfully, you make it there safely. Throughout the trip he had drank the entire water bottle and he seemed to be more alert than he was when you woke him up. You still come over to his side of the car and help him hobble into the hospital, though, not wanting him to accidentally fall and break anything.

You sit him down in one of the chairs and walk to the counter to check him in. You come back with the paperwork that the lady handed you, and you’re surprised to know that you know the majority of the answers. You only have to pester him when you get to the section about his family’s medical history and when you need him to sign the paperwork.

You quickly go back to the counter to give her the pages back. She smiles and assures you that she’ll get everything entered and that the doctor will be right with him.

The doctor comes out and calls his name. He takes one glance in her direction and then grabs your hand. “Y/N, can you come back with me?” He gives you the best puppy dog eyes that he can manage.

You chuckle, agreeing immediately. How could you ever say no to that face?

Once you get to the room that the doctor led you too, she begins to ask a few questions. After answering them, she takes Harry’s temperature, the thermometer that she uses reading the same as the one at the house did. She decided to do a few tests, some of which nearly make Harry throw up, and then comes back with the results a little while later.

“It seems like he has the flu. Nothing too serious as of right now, though. I’ll give you a prescription to get filled for him since it doesn’t seem like he’ll be doing much for himself until his fever goes down, at least.

You smile, thanking her for letting you know, and gather Harry and the prescription paper. On the way back to the house, you drop off the prescription and wait for it to be filled. 

“Can I go in and get some candy?” He asks as you get out of the car to go pick up the medicine.

“No, H,” You see him pout at you, so you quickly continue, “but I can go in and get it for you.”

The smile that he gives you makes your world slow. All you want to do for the remainder of time is just make him smile and bask in the light that it gives off. But you can’t focus on that right now, you have to go in and get his candy and his medicine and then get him back home.

He tells you what he wants, whining about how it’s his absolute favorite candy. You go buy it for him, deciding to get a few of them so that he’ll have some for later, hopefully for when after he feels better. You also get him another water bottle, knowing that he’ll have to take his medicine once you get back to the car.

You quickly go to the counter, giving them his information and then walking back out to the car. 

After paying for everything, you rush back to the car and give him his medicine. After he’s taken it, he begins to munch on his candy as you drive the both of you back to the rental.

Once you reach the rental, the ride back goes much smoother than the one there, you take him back to your room and lay him on the bed.

“I can’t sleep in here.” You frown, wondering why he’s had the sudden change of heart. “You’ll get the flu too.”

You roll your eyes at him. “I’ve slept in the same bed as you already.” You sit on the bed next to him, reaching up and combing your hair through the sweaty tendrils. “I literally woke up on top of you, if I’m going to get it, I’ll get it whether you sleep in here tonight or not.”

He grumbles, but ultimately doesn’t put up that big of a fight, knowing that if he doesn, he’ll lose. 

“Do you wanna take a shower?” You mumble, still letting your digits card through his hair.

“Are you trying to tell me I stink?” He tries to laugh but it comes out more as a cough and you can’t help but want to wrap him up in your arms and take any and all of the pain that he could be feeling away.

“No, you actually smell really good for being sick, but you have a lot of dried sweat on you from your fever.” You smile down at him, seeing him give you a lazy, lopsided grin in return.

“Can I take a bath?” He asks, eyes lighting up at the prospect of being able to sit down but still get the sweat off of him.

“Yeah, that’ll work, bubs.” You don’t even think about the pet name until it slips out of your mouth. You want to take it back, scared that he’ll hate it.

All your worries, along with any trace of regret, washes away when you see his smile grow, the dimples popping deep into his cheeks.

“If I put bubbles in the water so that you can’t see anything, will you wash my hair?” He questions, and there’s no way that you’re going to say no to him. And you realize that it’s not just because he’s sick. It’s because it’s just so easy to give into him, to want to give him everything that he asks for, just about no matter what it is.

You’re not going to let him know just how easily that you want to agree with him, though, so you drag it out just a little longer. :You’re really milking this for all it’s worth aren’t you?”

“I mean, I guess. I don’t know.” He sighs, looking like he’s trying to find the right words. You stay quiet, waiting for him to find the ones that he’s searching for. “I just really like it when you play with my hair, and I’m assuming that it’ll feel even better if you were to wash my hair.” His cheeks flush crimson. “Just really like having your hands in my hair, I guess.”

You feel like you’re going to explode with the overflow of emotions that you’re currently experiencing, so you decide not to drag it out any more than you already have, knowing that you’ll regret it if you do. “Fine, yeah, H. I’ll wash your hair for you.”

The way that his eyes light up makes it all the more worth it. You’d do anything to see him have that look on his face more often. You used to see a lot more of that, before things started happening that scared him. You found yourself wishing, more often than not, that he had never had someone find his address, and that he had never had people hold him at knife point. He had been slightly less open after that, kind of like he didn’t trust that many people anymore. And, even though you hadn’t admitted it since you were pretending to hate everything about him, you had missed the way that his eyes would sparkle at the simplest things, and how he would be the first to jump at the idea of a night out.

“Thank you!” He lunges up from his spot on the bed to hug you, wrapping you in his arms and not letting go for a moment.

After letting him keep you in his embrace for what you deem is long enough, you push him towards the bathroom.

“Go get the bath ready, I’ll go get you some clothes.” You nudge him, but then realize something. Before you walk out, you take his hands in yours, sliding his rings off this nimble fingers one by one until they’re all in your palms. “I’ll take these to your room and put them up, alright?”

“Yeah, do you still have yours?” You nod, pointing to the rose ring on the dresser, sitting right next to his Cartier ring on the chain. He smiles, then waddles into the bathroom.

You make your way to his room and rifle through his suitcase, trying to find something that isn’t another pair of sweatpants or swimming trunks. You want him to be comfortable but not too hot, and you don’t know if he’d be comfortable in just boxers. 

You end up finding a pair of shorts at the very bottom. You grab those and some boxers, along with a hoodie of his for yourself, before heading back to your room.

You don’t hear the water running when you enter/ “Are you ready, H?” 

“Yeah, you’re good!” You slip on the hoodie before entering the bathroom. You place his clothes on the counter, out of the way from everything, and come sit on the floor next to the tub. 

The water and the bubbles come up to the bottom of his butterfly tattoo. You trace it with your eyes, and before you can even think about what in the world you’re doing, your hand is reaching out to trace it. You stop yourself halfway there and look up at him, your cheeks aflame.

“Go ahead.” He urges. “You can touch.”

You let your hand travel the distance to his abdomen. You begin to trace the lines of the butterfly. The wings, the patterns, the antenna. You can feel the muscles in his stomach clench as you venture towards the bottom of the wings, so you travel back upwards with your hand. 

After you finish tracing what seems to be every line in the tattoo, you look up at him, slowly moving your hand north, but stopping slightly above the butterfly. Once he gives his nod of approval, you move up to the swallows, loving how they look on him. 

Before you’re even done with those, he nods again, urging you to continue. So, you do just that, tracing the lettering on his body and moving down his arm to run over the ship, the rose, the hands. You trace everything that you can, ending at the little cross tattooed on his hand. 

“You missed a few.” He rasps, and you quirk your brow in confusion. The only ones that you know of that could have been missed are the ones submerged under the water. 

He doesn’t say anything, just lifts up his arm to show you the tattoos. You immediately reach back out, tracing over the bird cage and the masks, along with the lettering there. You can feel his body shiver at your touch, and you can’t help but mimic the action. The feeling of his skin under your own is electrifying.

“They’re all so beautiful, H.” You whisper, not completely trusting your voice yet.

“Thank you.” His voice isn’t much higher than yours.

You shake your head, trying to rid your head of the thoughts of him. You clear your throat and reach for the shampoo bottle. You pour a generous amount into your hand and begin to lather it into his hair, massaging his scalp with your fingers as you do so.

He lets out a sound that’s a mix between a pleased sigh and a moan and you almost choke on the air that you’re filling your lungs with.

“Feels so good.” He mumbles, letting his eyes slip shut. You can’t help but smile at him, the way that he looks so peaceful, so relaxed and utterly himself that all you can do is grin at him.

“Does it?” You inquire, knowing for a fact that it does, just wanting to keep the conversation going for a little longer. There’s something about the raspiness in his voice that makes you never want to stop hearing it.

“Yeah, feels better than just about anything else I’ve ever experienced.” This time, he lets out a groan that’s so close to a growl that you have to take a moment to breathe.

“I’m glad.” You all but squeak.

After you rinse his hair out and begin to apply the conditioner to his hair, he looks up at you. “Hey, mind if I tell you something?”

“Yeah, go ahead, bubs. You can tell me anything.”

He seems to mull it over in his head for a moment and then speaks up again. “Promise not to get weird or anything?”

You’re beginning to get slightly worried. Part of you is scared that he’s going to tell you that he killed someone and now he needs help hiding the body or something extreme like that. Although, if he asked, you definitely would help him, that’s just the kind of friend that you are. “Yeah, I promise.”

He looks up at you through his lashes, making sure that he’s holding eye contact with you. “I kinda, um, like you.”

You smile, he’s so dramatic for no reason. “I kinda like you, too. You’re not as awful as I thought you were.”

“Thank you, but that’s not really what I meant by that.” He has a slight grimace on his face, like he’s scared that what comes out of his mouth next will hurt him in some way.

“What did you mean then?” He still seems hesitant, scared even. “You can tell me, bubs. I don’t bite.”

He takes a deep breath, settling himself. “I meant, I have feelings. For you.” You feel like your heart stops. All the breath is sucked from your lungs. Harry Styles? Likes you? “I don’t know for sure when they turned from ‘oh, she’s pretty and seems sweet’ to ‘I Wish that she didn’t hate me so maybe I’d have a chance’, but they did.” You feel him reach out and take your hand in yours, and all the emotions running through your body threaten to spill out. “And, trust me, I know that I treated you like shit and I don’t deserve you or your love but I just had to tell you.”

“Are you telling me that Harry Styles has a crush on me?” You ask, slightly chuckling.

“If that’s what you wanna call it, yeah.” He says, cheeks getting more and more red by the second.

You shake your head, not wanting to get too excited. He had a fever. Fevers can cause confusion and can make people think things that they don’t mean. “You don’t mean that. You have a fever, you'll feel different when you wake up in the morning.”

His face falls, and you immediately want to take back what you said. “I promise you that I won’t.”

“How do you know that?” You don’t think you could just forget the words that he’s saying to you.

“Because I didn’t just start feeling this way.” Relief surges through your body, and you can feel the tears start to prick at your eyes.

“Really?” You really won’t be able to handle it if this is all a side effect of the fever.

“Really.” He assures, brushing his thumb in soothing circles on your hand.

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to understand why you acted like you did and I think that you deserve me. I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you.” You had never thought that Harry would like you as any more than a friend, even before you actually met. All your friends had told you that you guys would be great together, you just had to meet him. You always had your doubts, though.

He scoffs, “Yeah, alright, we can pretend that’s true. You’re literally perfect.”

Your heart expands at his words, how does he always seem to know exactly what to say? “So are you, H. I’ve seen it for a long time, just didn’t wanna be the girl that loved you even though you hated me.”

HIs eyes widen and a smile covers his face. “You love me?”

“I’m getting there.” You admit.

“Come here.” He gestures for you to get closer.

You scramble towards him, getting as close as possible without physically climbing into the tub.

He leans in, closing the gap between the two of you, letting his lips ghost over yours for a moment before you pull back.

“Let’s rinse out your hair and then finish up and I’ll kiss you for real, alright?” There’s no way that you’ll be able to kiss him the way that you want to while he’s still sitting in the bathtub.

He nods and lets you continue. You rinse the conditioner out of his hair, then get up to leave the bathroom so that he can get dressed. Before you can walk away though, he grabs your hand and pulls you back. He makes a kissy face and you lean down to peck his lips, knowing that he’ll just pout until you give in.

Moments after you exit the bathroom, he walks out looking completely perfect. You can see the tiger tattoo on his thigh, and you make the mental note to kiss over it later.

“Kissy?” He asks, coming towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You sling your arms around his neck, slotting your hands into your hair. You nod, leaning in to kiss him, for real this time.

He wastes no time in kissing you back, this one holding a lot more passion than you ever thought a kiss could hold.

Your lips are molding with his, fitting together like they’re the missing piece that you needed to complete your puzzle.

His tongue slides over your bottom lip, asking permission, which you gladly give, opening your mouth and letting his tongue explore.

You pull away after a moment to catch your breath. Looking up at him, you see everything that you had been missing. “Promise me this doesn’t change when we go back to our real lives.”

He brings his hand up, cupping your cheek. You lean into your touch. “I promise you that, as long as you’ll have me,” he kisses your forehead,  “I’ll always be right here to tell you that you’re beautiful,” your temples, “that you’re all I can think about.” your cheeks. “And, as long as you’ll let me, I’ll kiss you over and over again.” He finally lets his lips glide over yours again.

After he pulls away, you breathe, “Good, because I don;t think I’d be able to go back to normal after that.”

“Neither could I.” He assures you. “Come on, love, let’s go lay down.”

With that, you crawl into bed next to Harry, cuddling into his side. After a moment, he decides you're not close enough, pulling you in until your head is on his chest and your leg is thrown over his thighs. 

You smile in content as he kisses your forehead. Who would have thought that you’d be in this place, with him? Never in a million years could you have dreamed this up for yourself. And honestly, if someone had told you a mere weeks ago that you would be kissing Harry and falling asleep next to him, you would have laughed in their face, probably even asked them if they had gone mental.

But now, here you were, laying cuddled up with the man that makes your entire world seem to light up, and you couldn’t be happier. It had been a rocky road getting here, but you would go through that day on the yacht a million times as long as you ended up back here, held tightly in his arms.

Listening to the beat of his heart, to the way that his breaths are evening out die to the comfort that having you near him brings, you drift off to sleep

*

You’re being shaken awake much too earlier, and you turn to gripe at whoever chose to wake you up. But then you realize that it’s Harry, and your face immediately softens.

“Hey, you.” He says, pecking your nose.

“Hey, why are we up so early?” You grumble.

He chuckles. “We’ve got a plane to catch.” You audibly groan, probably a lot more dramatic than it has to be. “Come on, it’s time to get out stuff together. Gotta go back to the real world.”

You sigh, not wanting to go, but you know that you have to, so you stumble out of bed and get all your stuff together. 

You scramble to ensure that everything’s ready, even making sure that you clasp your new necklace on your neck and slide the new ring on your finger.

Once you zip up your bag and stand up, wracking your brain to make sure that everything is in order, Harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You immediately lean into his embrace.

“You look really fucking cute in my clothes.” He mumbles, pressing his face into your hair.

“Why thank you, never got your tour hoodie, thought I’d see how it looked.” You smirk, knowing that you had, in fact, received a tour hoodie, you just hadn’t worn it yet.

He says nothing about that, though, just groaning, “It looks fantastic.” before pushing away from your body.

“Are you ready?” He asks, looking over all the packed bags, and then over to you. HIs eyes stop at the ring around your neck, heart swelling in pride that you’re wearing his ring.

“Yeah, don’t wanna go, but I know I have to. I’ve gotta go back to work.” You groan.

“I meant what I said last night, you know?” He blurts, and you can’t help but feel relieved. He had been acting like he meant it, but the verbal confirmation made you feel even better.

“Which part?” You say, playing coy.

“All of it.” He promises. “Every single word.”

You hum in content, walking back into his arms and pressing into his chest. “I mean what I said too.”

You pull away after a moment, walking to pack your stuff into the car.

After dropping off the rental car and going through the motions of getting ready and boarding the plane, you finally sit down, right next to Harry. This time, though, you aren’t dreading the plane ride.

*

After the plane lands, Harry throws you his keys, telling you that Sam and Lexi were supposed to have dropped the car off with his extra set an hour prior. He assures you that he’ll get your luggage.

“I can tell you’re tired, sweets, go on to the car, okay?” You nod in agreement before heading out to the parking lot to find his car.

On the ride back to your apartment, you doze off in the passenger seat, his hand on your knee and fingers tracing random patterns lulling you to sleep.

He wakes you up by kissing all over your face, and you must admit that it’s probably the best way for someone to wake you up. Well, not just anyone, just him.

He gets your bags from the trunk, walking you to the door. As you’re about to go inside, he kisses your cheek, letting his mouth linger there for a moment. “Can I come over later? Gotta put up my stuff and check the mail, but I wanna see you again.”

You smile. You’d like to see him again, too. “Yeah, sure. Just come over whenever.” 

He leans down and gives you a quick peck on the corner of your mouth before heading home.

In the time that you’re alone, you put everything away that you ended up not wearing and throw the dirty clothes in the wash.

As you’re fixing yourself dinner (which is arguably enough for two, but that’s just a coincidence...maybe), you hear a knock on your door. 

You rush over, checking through the hole to make sure that it’s Harry. When you open the door, he immediately sweeps you up into a hug. “God, I missed you.”

“You were gone for less that three hours, H.” You breathe.

“I know, but I still missed you.” He pulls back from you slightly, still keeping his arms wrapped around your waist. “Am I not allowed to miss my girl?”

Your heart skips a beat. “Your girl?”

“Um, fuck, I- you don’t have to- don’t feel pressured.” You cut him off by placing your lips on his.

“Calm down, H.” You urge.

“It’s just, I don’t know, do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asks, eyes looking down between the two of you at his shoes. 

“God, yes.” You clear your throat, realizing how desperate you probably sounded. “I mean, yeah. But I’m not gonna be able to be like all your other girlfriends were.”

“What do you mean by that?” He wonders.

“I can’t just drop everything and come with you while you’re on tour.” You give him an apologetic look. You know how much he loves having his girl with him while he’s performing. “I can’t go on excessive vacations with you, and by excessive I mean for months at a time. I don’t get paid to stand around and look pretty like the rest of them did.”

“I don’t want you to be like the rest of them were. I want you to be you.” He says, stroking your cheek with his hand. “Plus, I mean, you could technically come on tour with me as part of my crew if you wanted.” He suggests. “Be one of the photographers, or help me get everything ready. That could be your new job if you were interested.”

“Harry, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” You argue. “That’s just another person that’ll have to be paid. I didn’t do anything to get those positions anyway.” You know that all of the people on his crew were exceptionally talented, and that just wasn’t you.

“You let me see how wonderful you are at photography, that’s what you did.” You’re surprised that he remembers that. You had only shown him your work once. And it was the only time when the two of you were enemies that he didn’t have anything rude to say.

“H…” You’re still not sure about the idea. Of course, it would be fun, but you really have no business being there.

“Please? I don’t think I can go months on end without seeing you.” He whines. “I could barely go three hours.”

“Fine.” You give in. “But only if I get to stand in the audience and watch the show at least a couple times.” You had always wanted to see one of his shows from the audience, to see how well he interacted with everyone.

“Deal.” He says without hesitation.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go.” You concede. He does a mini celebration, shimmying his body slightly.

“You wanna go tell our friends after dinner, baby?” You suggest.

“Baby? I like it.” He says, blushing because of the pet name.

“I mean, you are my boyfriend now.” You reason, but also just liking the way that it sounds coming out of your mouth.

“That’s true, love. And yeah, let’s go tell our friends after dinner.” He leads you to the kitchen, fixing the both of you a plate and sitting down with you to eat.

*

After you clean up from dinner, you head out to the bar that your friends told you to meet them at.

You walk into the bar hand in hand with Harry. He sits in the booth first, dragging you in after him. 

“Do you wanna tell them?” You lean in and whisper into Harry’s ear.

He just nods, turning to Lexi and Sam. “Um, guys, we’re kinda, um, dating.” 

“Okay.” Sam says. Lexi nods, looking completely unfazed.

“What?” How are they being so calm about this?

“We figured it would happen. The chemistry between the two of you is impeccable. You had more passion towards each other when being dickheads than either of you have for anything else. It was just a matter of time.” Lexi explains, as if it’s completely obvious.

How they knew it was going to happen, you have no clue. You couldn’t even see yourself ending up with him. But maybe it was because you didn’t have the outside perspective. 

*

A few months later, you’re on a tour bus to the first venue, and you can already feel the adrenaline running through your veins. 

The very first show, you watch from the audience, taking in the scene. Seeing how his fans react, how he works the audience.It was good to study the subject before photographing them. 

Also, though, getting to watch your man live his dream is pretty exhilarating. And getting to go along for the ride with him is even better.

*

Thank you for reading!! You can come discuss with me here!!

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[all-my-love-for-harry]

Shower thoughts and long walks.

summary: Harry forces Y/N to go for a hike. 

word count: 1.4k

a/n: i decided to join @fallinharry ‘s celebration a wrote a little something, hope you like it <3

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Y/N hated hiking. In fact, she hated any physical activity that could possibly make her sweat. There was something about having literal water coming out of her pores that made her creep out.

Harry, her boyfriend, of course knew about this, however he did enjoy a good hike. He was a very active person, always going for morning runs and constantly spending time at the gym. But right now they were stuck in California in the middle of a pandemic, so he had to stick with his daily runs.

But besides loving hiking, Harry also loved spending time with his girlfriend. And would constantly try to convince her to go outside with him in the mornings, as she has been in the house for far too long in Harry’s opinion. He was very persistent but Y/N was yet to agree to his idea.

“You haven’t been out in a week” he said to her one morning.

“That’s not true, i watered the plants in the garden today!” she defended herself.

Harry gave her a look. “That’s not what I meant, love. When was the last time you got out of the house?”

“I don’t know, wednesday? Kind of hard going outside while being in lockdown” she shrugged.

“You can’t stay in the house for that long, it’s bad for you” he said while flipping a pancake. “What about you join me for a run tomorrow and-”

“Can’t I just get the groceries next time?” she groaned.

“No, you know I don’t want you to expose yourself like that”

“But you wanna take me for a run in the streets?” she raised an eyebrow. Y/N knew he just wanted to look after her, but God, she hated running.

Harry sighed, knowing that despite his best efforts, he wouldn’t even be able to get her out of bed the next day. He thought for a little bit before a grin formed on his face, giving away to her that he has had an idea.

One that she would probably hate, but an idea nonetheless.

“I’ll take you on a hike” he said with a big smile, as if he didn’t just made her want to die.

“Ugh, nooo” she frowned. “You know I don’t like hiking. It makes you sweat and be sticky, you’d also take me very high and I’m scared of heights”

Harry rolled his eyes at his girlfriend’s excuses. “Then I’ll take you in the afternoon, before the sun sets. That way, you’ll not sweat as much and the sun won’t bother you”

“But what about the height?”

“We will not go that high” he shrugged.

“And the bugs?”

“There won’t be any, Y/N” he groaned, starting to grow frustrated. “Stop making excuses”

Y/N sighed dramatically before saying “Then I guess I’ll go” at her words, Harry started cheering, making a little victory dance before lifting his girl in a hug.

“We’ll have so much fun watching the sun set, you’ll see”

°°°

Afternoon came quicker than Y/N thought. She spent all day trying to make Harry forget about their hiking date, making him watch a movie or two and even gave him a blowjob in the middle of one. But no matter what she did, Harry was just so excited to do this with her. He couldn’t stop grinning like a little kid in a candy shop, making her want to both melt in his arms and punch him in the face.

You’ll think she was overreacting, but she wasn’t an athletic person at all. She was the least coordinated person you’d ever meet, so she gave up at trying sports a long time ago. Plus her hate for sweating, and heights… and bugs.

But every time she looked at Harry, all happy and excited for taking her hiking, she remained herself that she had to do her best to at least not die before they got there.

Y/N started changing after Harry, taking her time to undress herself, slightly hoping and praying he would change his mind before it was time to go.

But of course he wouldn’t.

“Why are you still in your underwear? We gotta get going, darling” he burst into the room, already dressed in a pair of black shorts and a black hoodie. “You haven’t change your mind, haven’t you?”

Yes.

“Of course not, baby”

Grabbing a pair of baking shorts and a hoodie from Harry’s merch, she changed quickly before sitting on the bed to put her shoes on.

“Lemme help you” Harry kneeled before her to tie her sneakers, knowing he would do it faster than her. “Okay, we’re ready to go” he said excitedly.

Y/N had to take a deep breath before getting out the house and told herself she was going to have fun with her boyfriend, so she needed to stop whining.

They got on the car and Harry drove to the Griffith Park. After no longer than fifteen minutes they arrived to their destination. The park looked very intimidating in Y/N’s eyes, but she remembered Harry told her they wouldn’t go that high and her nerves died down a little.

“I packed water and sunscreen, oh and don’t forget the mask” he said, handing her a black, reusable face mask. “Ready?”

“I can feel my death already, let’s go” she dramatized, hopping off the car.

“If you’re nice I’ll carry you back” he joked, pushing her shoulder playfully. She narrowed her eyes.

“I hope you eat a bug”

°°°

The couple had been walking for half an hour now. Y/N had taken off her hoodie, after feeling a thin line of sweat on her forehead, leaving her in a black sports bra.

She looked like she was dying, but Harry was thriving. He was having the time of his life, enjoying the beautiful view Los Angeles had to offer them and holding the love of his life’s hand the entire time. It wasn’t until Y/N tripped over a rock that she noticed how high they actually were.

She immediately clung to him as if her life depended on it, growing terrified when the same rock she tripped over fell off the cliff.

“You said we weren’t going high!” she protested but kept walking anyway.

“I know I did, but if we want to watch the sun set we’ll have to go a little higher. The view it’s worth it, I promise”

“If I fall, I’m taking you with me” she pointed a finger at him.

“Yes, ma’am”

Harry led the way to his favorite spot to watch the sun set, and kept a strong grip on her hand, knowing that in any moment she will grow anxious by being this high. And when she was feeling anxious, she wouldn’t stop talking.

“Most dogs have siblings that they will never see again” she blurted.

Here we go.

“That’s… and interesting thing to think about” he said.

“If you die before someone else does, does that mean you’ve beaten them to death?” she asked.

“I… guess?”

“If Pinocchio says his nose is going to grow… will it grow?”

“I don’t think so” he tried to keep up with her questions.

“You live the anniversary of your death day every year without knowing”

“That’s pretty dark, love” Harry chuckled.

“When you close both eyes you see black, but when you close one eye it sees nothing. Have you notice?” she said, closing both of her eyes then opening just one, trying to prove her point.

“That’s oddly true” he said, trying it himself.

She was lost in thought for a second before looking back at him. “Hey... what do you think happens? You know, like, after we die and stuff.”

He blinked, amused yet concerned about how her mind would come up with so many things at a time when she was anxious. He knew she just wanted to divert her attention off of the fact she was literally climbing a cliff where she could potentially die, not that Harry would let that happen anyway.

“Okay, enough of the shower thoughts, we’ve arrived!” he exclaimed, dropping her hand just so he could wrap his arms around her shoulders. “Look at the view, my love” he sighed happily, squeezing her slightly.

Y/N visibly relaxed at his touch and sighed happily herself. The sun was setting and the sky was a mix between yellow, orange and blue… or was it purple? She didn’t know because she was too busy looking up to the man who was responsible for her being there. He wore a dimpled smile, already feeling her eyes on him but refusing to look down at her.

“Oi, what are you doing looking at me when we have this view?”

“Surprisingly, you’re so much prettier to look at”

“What do you mean surprisingly?”

[iwannaholdyoutight-]

Oh, my love (pour me that jack and coke)

Summary: only one more time won’t make any difference, right?

Warnings: FWB!harry, smut. Just the life I wanted to live, honestly.

Wordk count: 3K (small one, sorry, my job and uni are kind of hard right now)

My masterlist

A/n: heeey guys I’m back this time with a fic for @stylesharrys 10k celebration. I got the prompt FWB!harry: “you’re alright, love? You seem a bit flustetered”. Don’t forget to support the other authors who are participating on the challenge HERE. And the singer they listen at the festival that takes place in the flashback is this ONE. 

PREVIEW

Natalie Portman was dancing with her pink wing on the tv and y/n could feel Harry’s eyes on her, hands touching her right arm in a flirtatious behavior. He was wearing a white shirt and black running shorts. She looked at him and his intense eye stare was running through her, she was feeling his desire; the sensual scene only adding to the fire that was always between them and since last satuday increased to a wildfire. She wanted to sit on his lap and give the actress on the tv a run for her money, giving him the best lap dance ever. 

“Have you ever recieved a lap dance?”

“Yeah. Have you ever given one?”

“No” she said timidly, suddenly feeling insecure.

“Do you want to give me one?” Harry asked with hooded eyes and a smirk on his face, tha last rays of sunshine paiting his face a beautiful golden tone, letting his eyes look clear, almost blue. 

“Do you think is a good idea that we do this one more time?”

He smirk at her, his hands fully incansing her face:

“I mean... only one more time won’t make any difference, right?”

They were sitting together at the coffee just down from their work place. Y/n was staring at the judgmental eyes of her best friend, Natasha. Her black eyes looked like two grapes because of her wide stare. 

“It’s not a big deal” y/n said, drinking from her cappuccino with a douple shot and a hint of mint essence. 

“He’s your best friend”

“Who can I trust more to fuck me without breaking my heart than my best friend?”

“You don’t think NOTHING could go wrong?”

Nat was raising her voice, a little bit surprised that her childhood friend just told her that Harry fucked her just  6 days ago, at the Lights festival

“I don’t know if I want to know more or ask you to never talk about it”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to tell you if the rumors are true?”

“You are a little bitch. Tell me all of it”

6 days ago...

She was seeing the worlds in colors. The woman singing on the staged was called Sevdaliza and she had the most sensual music ever.

Harry, just like her, was high and they both ended up loosing their friends in the middle of the crowd. Y/n looked at Harry with his glittery yellow shirt and white jeans. He looked like he fit the part: graduated from film school, always writing poetry and reading them at the coffee next to his house. He was celebrating: his script was going to be shot, the small production office decided to endorse his project and he was on cloud nine.

Quite differently from the time she met him: undergrad student, insecure about his art. She worked as a designer and photographer and met him at a visual arts masterclass a few years back, when they were both on their early twenties. Now, each day closer to reaching the big 30s, they were the best of friends. Always together.

Y/n always thought they had nothing but friendship, but now, so close to him, listening to Sevdaliza voice melt the audience of the festival, with his cinnamon smell so tangible in the air and his bird warmt so close: she wasn’t so sure if it was just friendship.

And she can’t deny, she was curious if the rumors were true: was he THAT good in bed or all the lovers of his she ever met were just easily impressed?

What she didn’t spect was for Harry to also have the same questions. He was just behind her getting closer and closer till both of his arms were around her waist and he was crouching so his face could fit like a pluzze in the curve where her neck met her shoulder.

“You smell good” Harry said in a low voice that was meant just for her

“H, what are you doing?”

“I was just wondering...” he was using his hands to turn her around but not releasing her from him, his nose touching hers, his mint breath blinding all of her senses “we are so good together, always helping each other out, figuring it out exactly just what the other wants. So... maybe... you and I could make quite a pair on the sheets...” that only thing Harry got wrong the night was about the sheets: they fucked in her living room.

Now

If you ask y/n she doesn’t remember who kissed who. But they kissed till the show was over and next thing she knew they were sharing a uber back to her place. Nat was staring at her like she had comitted a crime. She wasn’t planning on telling anyone, thinking it was a one time thing. But she was surprised when during a presentation during work she god a text from Harry asking if she wanted to go back to his place after work and maybe have a repeat of last Saturday and Nat was right beside her.

So she had to tell. But judging by Nats reaction, it would have been better if she had lied about it.

“You’re still going to his place. Even if you know what might happen?”

“I mean... is another time really going to make any difference?”

Latter that day

The bus was moving slowly, the 5 o’clock traffic was the worse: nobody had patience, everybody with a 9-5 job was just crazy to finally get home and be able to rest.

From the bus window y/n could see the sky painting the city, the golden light was starting to make itself aware, combining with the aesthetic of the old buildings and bridges.

That’s probably one of her favorite things to do: observe the town she lived in; that city was just so beautiful. There was a contrast of the old with the new. The sun reflecting on the river, calm as ever, while people were running across the streetwalks, dreaming of a homecooked meal and a place to rest.

The bus was taking a left, ready to cross the revolving bridge. Harry’s place was getting closer and she could feel her stomach starting to turn with anxiety  all of it in the forms of butterflies.

Harry’s place was above an old movie place, people say the building dates back to the 1930s: 5 floors, the first being an old movies that still worked, only showcasing indie movies and oldies from the 40-80s. She remembers the first time she ever visited Harry, they talked for hours to end and then they went to the screening of a Doris Day festival. She went home that day singing to herself the theme song of the movie Pillow Talk, thinking to herself why she never went to an old movie theater till that day.

After getting off the bus, she walked just around 10 meters till she was face to face with the old movie theater sign. Today they would have a screening of shorts films from the 40s from 6 to 8 pm and then they would showcase the new movie based on Gloria Steinem’s best seller memoire called The glorias. Maybe if they were done till 10pm she could catch the movie.

Harry’s apartment was on the second floor, with a wooden door, a cat tapestry underneath saying: meowcom. She never thought it was funny but when they saw it at the street fair last year he laughter so hard at it she decided to give him as a Secret Santa gift.

“Don’t you look tired yet dashing this fine evening , miss” said his voice once he opened the door. Stepping aside so she could come in.

She went for a hug, he went for a kiss: they nocked their foreheads.

“Fuck why does your head have to be so big” she asked while taking her shoes off and walking towards his strawberry shaped sofa.

“You can’t expect me to be a movie genius with a small head, right?”

“The question is: what head are you talking about?”

“You know I have both heads quite big, so I don’t know why you asked” he took her purse from her, resting the object on the small table he had set closer to the door so he could always throw whatever he had in his hands there. Y/n took the moment to appreciate how he looked today: baby pink flare trousers and a graphic shirt, he was barefoot but with his rings still on his fingers; she knew he got home not too long ago.

“Harry what is that smell” she was referring to the tangerine smell that was all around his place

“Oh, it’s this tangerine essence oil I got from my upstairs neighbor... you know that one that always reads your tarot?”

“You’re talking about the witch?”

“Yeah, she prefers to refer herself as Wicca but yeah, her. She gave it to me to clean my energy now that I have this big project. And it smells quite nice, doesn’t?”

“Yeah it does” she could feel his eyes on her while she was playing with her nails “so what do you wanna do today?”

“I was thinking we could watch a movie here and then we can see where we wanna go from there?”

“do you have any jack and coke?”

He smirked at her and said:

“With ice?”

The night was young and it was only starting...

After a few glasses and a heated conversation about what movie they were going to watch, they both settled for closer because of the crush they shared on the cast.

Natalie Portman was dancing with her pink wing on the tv and y/n could feel Harry’s eyes on her, hands touching her right arm in a flirtatious behavior. He had changed his outfit, now wearing a white shirt and black running shorts. She looked at him and his intense eye stare was running through her, she was feeling his desire; the sensual scene only adding to the fire that was always between them and since last satuday increased to a wildfire. She wanted to sit on his lap and give the actress on the tv a run for her money, giving him the best lap dance ever.

“Have you ever recieved a lap dance?”

“Yeah. Have you ever given one?”

“No” she said timidly, suddenly feeling insecure.

“Do you want to give me one?” Harry asked with hooded eyes and a smirk on his face, tha last rays of sunshine painting his face a beautiful golden tone, letting his eyes look clear, almost blue.

“Do you think is a good idea that we do this one more time?”

He smirk at her, his hands fully incansing her face:

“I mean… only one more time won’t make any difference, right?”

With that being said, he turned the movie off and she got up from the couch, going to the bathroom and started to look at herself on the mirror

“You know what you need to do. You’ve never done it yourself but you know, I know he has more experience but he is your friend. Nothing can go wrong because he can help you. You both thrust each other and when it comes to sex consent and thrust are the two most important things. You have both with him.”

While y/n was having a mental breakdown over a lap dance, Harry was excited with the idea, cleaning the pizza they were eating and taking the now empty cups of jack and coke back to the kitchen.

He didn’t tell anyone but he was so glad they fucked last Saturday. It just made everything better. She didn’t have to know about how he always had the hots for her. She didn’t have to know that sometimes he would take people to his bed and picture they were her. And she definitely didn’t have to know that another time does make a difference to him.

Diming the lights and looking for the perfects songs to go on about this night. He was shaking with anticipation. After choosing to just play Childsish Bambino (you can never go wrong with that guy) he sat on the couch and that was the moment she opened the door of his bathroom. She had taken off her pants, just with her social shirt loose on her body, with the buttons down to the middle of her chest, her hair always messy and her very colored lips looking so delicious, just waiting for him to say “come here” and she would go... like a little puppy.

“I have never done this so you need to be nice to me”

“Darling... I’m always nice”

She walked over to him, but stopping halfway, going on her fours and crawling her way to him.

“I still have a lot of bite marks on my boobs that prove the exact opposite” now standing in front on him, on her knees, spreading him open, with her tint hands massaging his thighs, marking her way to his short “you don’t mind if I take off your shorts right” she was with her face inching closer to his legs, resting her head right on top of the tiger tattoo, teasing him “I have never given someone a lap dance but I do know that the less clothe, the better if feels”

With both of her hands she took off his pants while he got rid of his shirt. Standing still she admired his body, why did she waited so much to get on it with him? He was soft on the sides but with a strength beneat the bones, with a few abs and chest bigger than most. Green fucked up eyes and rosy lips. He deserved to be on all of the screens, all of the stages, not living in a small flat above an old movie theater.

“You know” Harry broke the silence “for one to give a lap dance she must actually be on top of him”

She didn’t answered him, instead sitting herself on his knees not allowing him any more than that touch. With the tips of his fingers he started to trace her face, admiring her. She was a beacon of light, with every color shining inside her eyes, every sin could be found in her lips but every prayer was found on the way she would blush at his words.

Putting her hair behind her shoulder she got closer and closer to him, using her knees on either side of his body to help her move. Feeling his warmth. She didn’t know how to give a lap dance but she knows him. She knows what makes his knees buckle and what makes him shiver. She was going to make him her little puppy. So with all the confidence she could muster, biting his vein that was always apparent on the neck, her hips started to move.

He was semi hard but the more she moved, the more she could feel him getting harder. That was one of the things she loved the most about sex: the foreplay.

“You know” she got back to talking, not stopping her hips, using her hands to tease all of his body “when we are like this is when I remember how much I’ve always wanted you”

“Fuck, love. You’re going to kill me”

“Oh my love, you have not seen a thing” with one of her hands she started to take off her shirt, leaving her with a rose gold brallete that matched her barely there panties “You alright, love? Look a bit flustered.”

She was mocking him, trying to copy his British accent but that only got him a side smile while his eyes were fixated on the way her nipples could be seen through the piece of glittery fabric. She was having so much fun

“You know” Harry said trying to get a bit of his control back “when you talk like this, you drive me fucking mad” with one hand climbing on her back, till he reached for her roots, tugging on it, now she didn’t knew it she was the one in control  “when you mess with my neck, or when I pull your thighs further apart and I can feel just how wet you actually are and then you kiss me and I’m closer to the point of no return”

With a hand behind and knee he got up, changing position and spreading her all over the tapestry on the floor, the fluffy blood red velvet matching with her skin. He now had the upper hand and he was going to make a good use of it.

With his kisses going down her neck, he started to rut his body against her. Her moisture could be felt throught his underwear and there was nothing that Harry wanted more than to fully ravish the defenseless girl panting underneath his tattooed body. Glistening with sweat and moaning without an ounce of regret.

He wanted her to know he was the only one that could do this to her. With his hand playing with her breast while the other was getting closer and closer to her mound, he looked at her. With her open mouth and closed eyes, out of a painting that deserved its place on the Louvre. He decided to use her own words against her:

“You alright, love? Look a bit frustrated”

“You asshole just fuck me already”

“Yeah, I’ll fuck you good. But only if you promise to stay the night”

“Is this really a good idea?”

“One more time won’t make any difference, right?”

Laughing at the irony she pulled him closer. They had a deal... because it won’t make any difference, right?

But it did.

[hstyleshoney]

flawed - h.s

AU she has a new roommate and he’s not the worst 

Wordcount: 13K // slow-burn fluff with a small hint of angst and mutual-ish pining I suppose, strong language, alcohol use, sexual content

AN: This is my little College/Uni AU piece for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration writing fest! And I got carried away. I’ve had the start of this in my drafts for like two years and this challenge kind of just got me motivated to finish it. I’m really happy with some parts of it and some I’m not so sure about...I hate endings... BUT I had really fun writing it and that is all that matters and hopefully someone will enjoy it. I’m just happy I managed to finish it after such a long time. I’d also really really appreciate some feedback on it so please share your thoughts! I don’t have too much experience writing like this so be nice pls haha. ENJOY! <3 

“Harry, you left your dirty dishes by the sink...  AGAIN!  Dunno how many times I have to remind you to clean up after yourself Put it away. Thx. :)”

Y/N took a deep breath to calm herself down and re-read the pink post-it note infront of her. He was going to be the death of her. He really was. Harry was in every other way the perfect roommate, well perfect was perhaps a bit excessive but he wasn’t the worst, except for the fact that he never took care of his stupid dirty dishes. It drove her mad. It took all her willpower to not smash his stupid little kermit the frog teacup into tiny little pieces whenever she saw it.

And yes, maybe it was irrational of her to get so worked up over a few dirty cups when everything else was going so well. But Y/N liked it when things were in order.

In the past two months that she had lived with Harry she had lost count of how many times she had asked him to wash up his used pans, plates and cups. The first time it happened she didn’t really mind. The second time -- also fine. But the third? That was when she started to get a little bit bothered. Because not only was it his dirty dishes from the same day. No. The plate and cup from the day before were still there on the counter as well. That was the first time she asked him to clean up after himself.

It was still fine though.

Y/N just told herself it was because Harry had previously lived in a student accommodation with a bunch of unruly boys and wasn’t used to picking up after himself. It was fine. He’d soon get it.

Only, he didn’t seem to get it.

Because weeks later she still had to remind him to wash up after he was done in the kitchen. It was like what she said to him went in one ear and out the other. It took her another week before she started suspecting he was leaving it out on purpose to irritate her, which well, it worked. It only annoyed her further.

The amount of tea that boy drank was truly worrying. She had been told she drank a lot of tea, but she seemed to have met her match in Harry. At least judging by all the cups he left around the flat. They were everywhere. Literally. She had even found one under the bathroom sink just a couple days ago and she didn’t even bother asking him how it got there. She had simply just left him a post-it note asking him to put it away.

Because she was certainly not going to go around and pick up after him. He was a grown boy and therefore capable of cleaning up after himself. She wasn’t his mother.

It was basic housekeeping.

She ripped the little pink post-it note off the pad and stuck it up on Harry’s bedroom door so he couldn’t possibly miss it. She stared at it for another minute, pleased with herself, before getting her backpack and left to go to her lecture. It was her own way of telling him off; leaving post-it notes for him. A more passive-aggressive approach had always been her preferred strategy, it made her feel slightly less annoying, and anytime she had left him a note in the morning the dirty dishes had magically disappeared when she came home later.

So there was no reason for her to stop leaving them for him.

--

Apart from that Harry really was the best roommate she could’ve asked for. The best one in the short amount of time she had had to find a new one anyways. Lexi, her very good friend from home and roommate before Harry, had decided to drop out of uni a week before courses were due to start again after summer; leaving her alone with a flat she couldn’t afford on her own. Y/N couldn’t be mad at her though because she knew how unhappy Lexi was in Manchester. She wasn’t enjoying her course and she missed her family. Y/N couldn’t force Lexi to stay just because she didn’t want to find a new roommate. She wasn’t that selfish.

It just wasn’t ideal. Everyone she knew already had a place to live and she was feeling pretty defeated about the whole thing. She liked her flat and didn’t want to give it up. Her parents offered to help her pay rent until she could find someone to live with again but she didn’t want to take her parents money. It didn’t feel right. So when her friend Lucy mentioned that her boyfriend Nate had a friend who needed a place to live she offered the mysterious man Lexi’s old room without a second thought.

Then Harry showed up outside her door two days later with a large suitcase and a couple of moving boxes.

They didn’t really talk all that much their first week of living together. He mostly kept to himself, trying to get settled in and get used to being back at uni after a long summer. All she knew about him at that point was that he was the same age as her and that he was studying music. Something she probably would’ve figured out sooner or later on her own, because every evening she could hear him play his guitar from inside his bedroom. She couldn’t complain though. It was quite soothing actually, and she wanted to tell him that.

But she also didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable knowing she laid awake listening to him play and then stop because he didn’t want her to eavesdrop.

So Y/N never said anything.

Their second week of living together was when she picked up on his annoying habit of leaving the kitchen a mess. It was also that week he offered to make her a cup of tea for the first time and she would never admit it outloud but it was probably the best cup of tea she had ever had.

But since he left his own cups all around the flat she also refused to tell him that.

By the third week they started having dinner together and asked each other about their days. They were slowly getting to know one another and Y/N realised for the first time that she did in fact enjoy Harry’s company. That Sunday they spent the entire evening binge watching the first season of a scandinavian crime drama on netflix and shared a tub of ice cream.  

Then they were suddenly in the same group of friends.

Because with Lexi gone Y/N started hanging out with Lucy more and Lucy was dating Nate and Harry was always hanging out with Nate. Which all just led to Tara, Declan and Connor always being around as well. Their flat had, since Harry moved in, turned into the hotspot for the gang to hang out at. She didn’t mind much, because she liked them and she had never really been a part of a group like them before. It was nice. Lexi moving had in a weird way been a blessing in disguise.

So there really wasn’t anything else to complain about when it came to Harry as a roommate.

Well, maybe one more thing.

And she usually met that reason every Sunday morning in their kitchen after a night out.

That Sunday however took a different turn than what she had gotten used to.

“You told me you didn’t have a girlfriend!”

“Harry,“ Y/N said slowly and narrowed her eyes at him. The girl next to them, whose hair was dyed a rich red color, was only clad in one of Harry’s old band t-shirts and stared at the two of them with frantic eyes.

“Y/N, babe, I’m so sorry,” Harry said and stared at Y/N pleadingly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on!?” The red-haired girl demanded and crossed her arms over her chest and Y/N could’ve sworn she did a little stomp. “You told me last night that you were single!”

“Yes Harry, I’d love an explanation,” Y/N said and mimicked the redhead by crossing  her arms over her chest. She probably would’ve laughed if the situation had been any different because the stranger in the kitchen was glaring at Harry with such a hatred in her eyes and Y/N had never seen a girl look at him that way before. 

And it was still funny, but it would’ve been funnier if she wasn’t a part of it. Harry on the other hand only ignored the angry girl and kept the lie going, focusing on his roommate.

“Love, I’m so fucking sorry. It didn’t mean anything! I swear, I was drunk and-”

“Ugh, oh my god,” the redhead cried out, interrupting him. She was fuming and her face was as red as her hair. Before Y/N had the chance to say anything else, to resolve the situation, the redhead stepped forward and slapped Harry across the face. “You’re such a fucking asshole!”

Then she turned around and Y/N’s first instinct was to take a step back because that was how intimidating she looked with her red wild hair and red cheeks. But Y/N, very unexpectedly, found herself being embraced in a bone-crushing hug. “I’m so sorry! I swear I had no idea. He told me he didn’t have a girlfriend. You deserve so much better! Leave him.”

And just like that the girl was gone, marching back to Harry’s room to get changed into her own clothes again, and left the two of them alone in the kitchen. Y/N at loss for words and Harry rubbing the side of his face.

It didn’t take very long before the sound of the front door being slammed shut echoed through the flat and made the walls around them shake.

“You’re disgusting,” Y/N muttered then and walked past him to put the kettle on. She had a headache from all the wine she had consumed the previous night and whatever it was that had just happened hadn’t exactly helped her feel any better. She had only wanted a nice cup of tea, and maybe some toast. She had definitely not been prepared, nor expected, to be part of a terrible made-up triangle drama. Not this early.

“Aw, c’mon,” Harry laughed and finally let his face break out into a grin. “I’ve tried to get her to go home all morning but she wouldn’t take any hints. I had no choice.”

Y/N turned her head to glare at him and pointed a warning finger in his direction

“If you bring a girl back you get rid of her yourself. I want no part in your disgusting shenanigans,” she told him. “You deserved that slap.”

“I didn’t even say anything to her,” Harry said and hopped up to take a seat on the counter. “She just assumed.”

“Why would she even assume that?” Y/N asked and eyed him suspiciously “If I was your girlfriend I wouldn’t randomly appear in the kitchen the next morning in my pyjamas. You must’ve told her something.”

“I didn’t,” Harry denied and put his hands up, still grinning. She rolled her eyes. “I swear! She just assumed.”

“Yeah well, you shouldn’t have let her,” she told him and took out two slices of bread to put in the toaster. “Besides, do you have to bring a girl back every weekend?”

“Do you have to go on like five dates a week?”

“I don’t,” she glared at him again. Harry raised his eyebrows at her knowingly and she looked away from him as the next few words left her lips. “It was only three this week.”

“Oh right,” Harry laughed. “Excuse me.”

“Shut up.”

“At least I’m getting something good out of it,” he continued to laugh. “I still don’t understand why you have to go on so many dates all the time. What do you get out of it?”

“I wanna find love,” she shrugged. “Is that so bad?”

“No, not at all,” Harry told her. “But dating douchebags ain’t gonna bring you love.”

“Yeah because sleeping with someone new every weekend is so much better,” she replied sarcastically and watched as Harry slid down from the counter when the kettle made a small noise to let them know it was ready.

“Like I said,” he started with a smirk and took down two tea cups from the cupboard. “At least I get something good out of it. You should try.”

She rolled her eyes again but didn’t say anything else as her toast popped up from the toaster. Her dating life was a running joke among her friends and she had learned to ignore the comments they made. She wanted to find love, so she wasn’t going to sit around and wait for it. Some may say she was a bit desperate, and maybe she was, but it wasn’t her fault every guy she met was wrong for her. They were all either too clingy or too uncommitted.

Or maybe she was just a bit too picky.

Either way, she did go on a lot of dates when her schedule allowed her to. She wanted what everyone else around her seemed to have. Her parents acted more in love with each other every time she saw them, even after 30 years of marriage. One of her sisters had just gotten engaged to her long-term boyfriend and her oldest sister had been married for three years already and was expecting her second child. Her younger cousin got married that summer. Any time Y/N traveled back home all her relatives asked her when she was going to find herself a nice young man. It was exhausting. Y/N was stressed. Pressured. So she dated a lot. There was nothing wrong with that, yet people liked to mock her for it, especially Harry since he was the one who she came back home to after a bad date.

He’d usually burst into her room after a date, wanting all the details only so he could laugh about everything that had gone wrong. But then he also always made her a cup of tea and got her some biscuits.

He wasn’t the worst.

“Hey,” Harry said and held out the tea he had made for her. “You wanna watch an episode of The Bridge?”

Y/N stared at him for a second and for the first time ever her heart skipped a beat. It was no secret that Harry was unbelievably attractive, the kind of attractiveness that terrified you before you got to know him. If he hadn’t showed up outside her door she never would’ve had the guts to talk to him. After getting to know him though he was just Harry; her roommate.

But there was something about him right there and then, dressed casually in sweats and a plain t-shirt as he handed her a cup of tea in their kitchen, that just got to her. She quickly snapped herself out of her thoughts to stop her mind from wandering too far and took the tea from him. Must be the hangover.

“Sure, but only one episode,” she replied and picked up her plate of toast as well. “I have to read some shit for my seminar tomorrow and I can’t keep procrastinating.”

--

They ended up watching more than just one episode.

And Y/N never got around to reading the chapter she needed to read. She only skimmed through it on her way to her seminar, which is why she made a fool out of herself when the lecturer pointed straight at her and asked her to share her thoughts. She wanted to disappear.

And her day didn’t get any better when she stepped in dog shit on her way home.

And it certainly didn’t get any better when she accidentally knocked over her cup of tea and spilled it all over the rug. So instead of getting to lie on the couch and feel sorry for herself, like she had planned, she had to try and save the white rug from getting a stain. It wasn’t a great day.

It was also at that moment Harry came back home; when she was sitting on the floor, scrubbing the rug furiously and muttering profanities under her breath.

“You know,” Harry began to make his presence known. “There’s something about what you're doing right now that’s really turning me on.”  

Y/N stopped her scrubbing and looked up at him, not impressed by his joke or by the stupid smirk on his face.

“Oh fuck off,” she swore and simply raised her hand and her middle finger at him. “Or make yourself useful and get some baking soda or something.”

“Bad day?” he asked while putting his guitar case down. She only glared at him.

“What do you think?”

“I’ll just get the baking soda.”

“Good choice.”

They cleaned the rug together and after a good half an hour of scrubbing and googling the best tricks to remove tea stains they managed to save it from getting ruined. Y/N slumped down on the couch again, exhausted and defeated, and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down.

What a shit day.

Harry made her a new cup and put away everything they had used to get rid of the spilled one before joining her on the small couch.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked and squeezed his brows together, uncertain how to approach her.  

“I just had a shit day,” she sighed deeply. “Completely fucked up my seminar.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Ha!” Y/N scoffed. “No, I did. But it was my own fault though, so I can't really cry about it.”

“Well,” Harry scratched the back of his head. “Can I do anything to make you feel better? We could get some pizza and watch a movie or something?”

“I can’t,” she grumbled. “I have an assignment I have to finish by Wednesday and considering how shit I did today I have to focus. I can’t fuck this up too.”

“You have to eat something though.”

“Yeah, I will. I’ll just heat up some of that leftover pasta later or something,” she assured him and maybe if she hadn’t been so frustrated with herself she wouldn’t have confused the way her heart was racing inside her chest with stress; when in reality it was beating extra for the green eyed boy next to her.

Y/N stayed in her room for the rest of the afternoon into the evening, reading and typing away. She wouldn’t say it was going well, but she didn't want to throw her computer out the window and she always appreciated those rare moments.

She could also hear Harry roaming around in the rest of the flat and later on the low strum of his guitar. She smiled to herself when she heard it and didn’t even realise she was humming along to the melody he was playing until he stopped.

And it wasn’t until her stomach growled loudly that she remembered she hadn’t actually had any dinner yet. She made sure to save her work, hitting ‘save’ an extra time because you could never save a document too many times, before closing her laptop and standing up. Her muscles ached from how long she had been in the same position and she winced a little as she stretched them out.

Then her stomach rumbled and she was once again reminded of how hungry she was. It was nearing 11 pm and she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, which was not good, and she kind of regretted not accepting Harry’s offer about getting pizza before.

But when she made it into the kitchen there was a pink post-it note on the fridge, only this time she wasn’t the one who put it there.

I got some pizza earlier, saved you a few slices in case you want some instead of that old pasta xx H :)

A warm feeling spread through her body as she read his little note, and she couldn’t help but notice that Harry had a surprisingly neat handwriting. It was cute. Both the handwriting and the message. It put a smile on her face.

While the pizza was being reheated she decided to go find Harry and thank him for the nice gesture. She was just about to knock on his door when she noticed that the TV was still on and she spotted him on the couch.

Asleep.

And it was probably cuter than both his handwriting and the message combined.

His whole body took up the small couch; his legs dangled over the armrest and he had his arms crossed over his chest to make himself smaller. There was a slight frown on his face, presumably from the dream he was having, but it was endearing in a way to still see him so relaxed. He had changed out of the blue jeans he had worn last time she saw him and had on his black shorts and the knitted jumper he always just wore around the flat. He looked comfortable. Homely.

A part of her wanted to run back to her room and get her phone so she could snap a picture of him before he woke up.

But an even bigger part of her stopped her from doing so because it felt inappropriate to take a picture of him sleeping. She wasn’t so sure Harry would appreciate her taking pictures of him without him knowing either. So she refrained.

Then, almost like he could feel her watching him sleep like a total creep, he slowly blinked his eyes open, and honestly... it was probably the cutest thing yet. She blushed as he caught her staring.

“Oh, hey,” he said, his voice low and rough, and rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out of them. “What time is it?”

“Mm it’s about 11.”

“Shit, didn’t realise I fell asleep,” he grumbled and sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Did you finish your assignment?”

“Almost,” she told him and smiled softly. “Thanks for the pizza.”

“No worries,” he said and matched her smile.

“Also, I’m sorry for being so cranky before. I was just a bit stressed.”

Harry shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he reassured her. “We’ve all been there.”

Y/N ended up joining him on the couch for a bit after the pizza was done. They didn’t talk much while she ate and Harry flicked through the channels on the TV, before he eventually decided on an old romcom. 

When Harry had first shown up outside the flat she had been nervous about living with him. She had only ever lived with girls before, but it had been easier to get along with him than she had first expected. Not that she had heard anything bad about him; Lucy had nothing but nice things to say when she first told her about Nate’s friend who needed a place to live.

She had just assumed it was going to be harder to live with a boy compared to a girl. But Harry made it easy, aside from the dirty dishes and the unknown women in her kitchen Sunday mornings of course, and he was slowly becoming one of her closest friends. While it was terrifying it also felt like the most natural thing. Like he was meant to be in her life.

Which is why she felt so stupid for what happened next.

“They make love seem so easy in these romcoms,” Y/N complained with a huff. “Why don’t I have a gorgeous guy pining after me? I just want someone to have a secret crush on me and then make a big grand gesture. Is that too much to ask?”

“How do you know you don’t?” Harry questioned and she snorted.

“I highly doubt it. Who would that be?”

Harry shrugged.

“Who knows,” he said. “It’s kinda the point of having someone secretly crushing on you, innit?”

“Oh whatever,” she grumbled and Harry laughed. “You have no say in this. I see the way girls stare at you whenever we go out. You probably have a handful of secret admirers. ”

“Are you forgetting the fact that you go on more dates than the rest of us combined?” Harry pointed out and raised his brows at her. “You probably have more admirers than anyone else I know.”

“Not true.”

“So true,” Harry insisted. “You need to stop trying so hard and maybe just let love find you instead.”

“That’s probably the most cliche thing someone has ever told me,” she said and rolled her eyes. “What am I supposed to do then? Sit around and twiddle my thumbs and wait for someone to come knocking on our door and say they love me?”

“No, not at all,” Harry frowned. “I just think that maybe you need to open your eyes and take a step back. Lower your expectations and don’t be so picky. You’re not going to find Prince charming. No one is flawless.”

“You know what? It’s too late to be having this conversation,” she told him and stood up. There was something about what he just said that made her heart sink a little inside her chest. “I’m going to bed.”

“Hey, you okay?” Harry said and caught her wrist to stop her from leaving. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It’s okay,” she said and swallowed thickly. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.” His hand was hot on her skin and she couldn’t take her eyes away from his long fingers and how he traced his thumb across her wrist in small circles. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

He really didn’t. Y/N wasn’t sure why she had suddenly gotten so upset; why she took what he said to heart. It made her feel like a brat almost. She was used to people making fun of her dating life but she didn’t like this. 

She didn’t want people to think she was shallow or impossible to please. Especially not Harry.  

Because that wasn’t the case. There were plenty of good guys out there and she was far from perfect herself. She had a lot of flaws. Y/N had just never clicked with anyone in the way she wanted to and she wasn’t going to get into a relationship with someone she didn’t feel she connected with one hundred percent.

“Okay,” Harry said with a heavy sigh and let go of her wrist. “Goodnight then.”

“Night.”

Harry still had a frown on his face as he watched her take her plate back into the kitchen and Y/N could feel her pulse racing as she felt his eyes on her. It was awkward and she was embarrassed for how she had just handled everything. It wasn’t even a big deal. He hadn’t said anything she hadn’t thought of herself before. Harry was just giving her advice. 

So why did she feel so upset? 

It was the first time she had ever gotten even the tiniest bit self-conscious about the amount of dates she went on, and as she crawled into bed she couldn’t help but wonder if she felt like this because it was Harry.

It was also the first time she realised she cared a lot about what he thought of her.

She wanted Harry to like her.

--

Y/N got her period a day later and just like that everything she had felt on Monday made so much sense. Of course. Luckily everything was completely fine between her and Harry the morning after she left him on the couch and they even baked some brownies Tuesday evening because Y/N was craving chocolate, which also made sense when she woke up with stains in her underwear and cramps in her lower region on Wednesday.

Despite that though she had quite a good day. She managed to finish her assignment in time and she didn’t hate it; she was maybe even a little bit pleased with it. She bought herself a new pair of sneakers that were on sale and an eyeshadow palette she had been wanting for a while. Her and Harry got chinese food for dinner before meeting the rest of the gang down at the pub.

Wednesdays meant quiz night and Y/N teamed up with Tara and together they managed to win first prize which gave them £50 to spend at the bar.

Y/N blamed the alcohol for everything that happened after that.  

She tripped on her way over to the toilets. She accidentally managed to somehow elbow Connor in the face. She also spilled half a pint of beer all over herself, leaving a huge wet stain on her trousers so it looked like she pissed herself.

But she was still in good spirits.

Until she spotted Harry at the bar with a tall gorgeous girl. Their faces were close and even from the booth she was sitting in she could see his dimples. It left a sour taste in her mouth watching the pair talk and it annoyed her how easily Harry once again had a girl swooning over him. Why was he even off flirting with some random girl when they were all supposed to be there together? And why was he so good at it? And why did he look so good doing it?

Y/N rolled her eyes when the girl giggled and reached out to touch his bicep. Disgusting.

“Hello?” Lucy snapped her fingers in front of Y/N’s face. “You still with us?”

“What?” She tore her eyes away from the scene that was taking place at the bar and turned her attention back to her two friends. “Yeah, of course.” She faked a laugh and took a long sip from her beer. Lucy and Tara shared a look, but they didn’t say anything else about it which she was thankful for.

Mostly because she had no idea how to explain any of it. She glanced over at Harry and the girl again and tried to understand why her chest suddenly felt so tight. It must be the alcohol.

And oh, right, of course, she had her period.

It was her hormones; the only logical explanation.

Satisfied with the answer to her own confusion she threw herself back into the conversation around the table, ignoring the fact that she could still see Harry and the girl in the corner of her eye.  

Then Declan showed up at their table with a round of vodka shots for everyone because he knew the bartender and got them for free.

Who was she to say no to free shots?

But she really should’ve.

The strong liquid didn’t sit right with her and instead of giving her a bigger buzz her head felt heavy and her ears were ringing. She also felt a little bit sick; the chinese food she had had with Harry slowly rising in the back of her throat. Taking shots had never really ended well for her but drunk Y/N still always seemed to think it was a fantastic idea.

It was a good thing she didn’t have a lecture or anything the next day, because her hangover was not going to be pretty.

And Y/N didn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone before she unexpectedly jumped out of her seat, got her coat and stumbled outside. She needed fresh air and she couldn’t wait.

The second she stepped outside into the cold autumn night she instantly felt better. The nausea from the stuffy pub atmosphere disappeared and she sat down on the curb next to the road and took a few deep breaths. 

“Hey there Quiz-Queen, you alright?”

Harry.

She glanced up at him and even though he had called her by the nickname she had jokingly given herself after winning first-prize he was looking down at her with concerned eyes. Her purse hung from his shoulder, she hadn’t even realised she had left it behind, and he had his own long and vibrant plaid coat wrapped around himself; protecting him from the cold.

“Yeah,” she said and took another deep breath. “I just needed some air.”

“Hm,” Harry hummed, relieved she was okay. “Maybe next time let the rest of us know where you’re going and don’t just get up and leave.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Not at all,” Harry assured and shook his head. “Just want to make sure you’re safe. I don’t think that £50 bar tab was the best thing for a lightweight like you.”

“Oiii,” she pouted. “That’s mean. You’re just jealous you didn’t win. How many right answers did you guys get again? 6 out of 20?”

“It’s not about winning, it’s about having fun,” Harry said with a smug smile and a twinkle in his eyes that he only ever got when he thought he was being clever. “And I had fun.”  

“Oh give it a rest,” she scoffed but there was still a smile on her face. “You love to win, don’t stand there and pretend to be a good loser when I know how competitive you can get.”  

Harry laughed and she felt butterflies come alive inside her stomach as she watched his dimples appear. This time for her and not for some stupid girl at the bar.  

“C’mon Silly-girl, let’s get you home,” he said, ignoring her comment about him being a sore loser, and offered his hand to help her up. His fingers were strong around hers and her skin was tingling as she watched her own hand disappear in his.

Once back up on her feet she had to hold onto Harry for a second to stop her head from spinning so much. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the alcohol anymore or her hormones... or if it was merely just because of Harry.

It was just easier to blame the alcohol or her period, so that’s what she did.

Harry had an arm around her to support her swaying body as they made their way over to the bus stop, holding her close to him. He smelled like beer and the shampoo she always secretly sniffed when she took a shower. It was something she would never admit out loud, or sober, but she loved the smell of it.

Sometimes she had considered using it on her own hair, it was just so fresh and relaxing, so Harry, but it was also one of those things she wasn’t so sure he would appreciate her doing. 

“We should’ve stopped to get some food,” she muttered and slumped back against her seat on the bus. “I’m starving and I’m craving something salty.”

“I can make us something when we get home,” Harry offered.

“Really?” Y/N perked up. ”Could you?”

“Yeah, I’m a bit hungry as well.”

“Oh my gosh, have I ever told you you’re the best roommate?”

“Pretty sure you haven’t,” Harry laughed. "I do, however, have a lot of post-it notes that one could argue suggest the opposite."

“I saw you talking to a girl earlier. She was very pretty.” It slipped out before Y/N had the chance to think twice about it. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me now and didn’t get to go home with her.”

Harry didn’t laugh at that but he still had the same twinkle in his eyes as before and a fond smile on his lips.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said and suddenly his hand was on her knee and he gave it a gentle squeeze; causing her hormones to act up again so her heart skipped a beat. “You’re not the worst person to be stuck with.”

--

As expected her hangover wasn’t pretty the next day.

She woke up with a raging headache and an upset stomach. After Harry had made them both some food she had been too tired to go wash her make-up off so the girl staring back at her in the bathroom mirror had black mascara smudges all around her eyes and golden glitter eyeshadow smeared across her bloated face. It was a tragedy. She was a tragedy.

However, the thing that made her hangover feel even worse was when she walked into the kitchen and saw the all dirty pans and plates from her and Harry’s late night meal. Pangs of guilt instantly swept through her. Harry was already gone by the time she woke up. He had an early seminar, which she knew he did because he had told her before they met up with the others at the pub, and she felt terrible that she had kept him up half the night only to make her food. He couldn’t have gotten more than two hours of sleep and it filled her up with guilt.

So much guilt she didn’t leave him a post-it note telling him the kitchen was a mess, because that would’ve just been super fucking rude since it was her fault he was even in the kitchen cocking at 3 am in the first place. Instead she washed up and decided to go out and get his favorite snacks as a thank you, and also because she was craving more chocolate and a fizzy drink.

Being hungover while having your period was really not the best combination.

Y/N hid her tousled hair under a beanie and put on a quick layer of foundation in an attempt to cover up her blotchy skin. It didn’t really help her feel much better about her appearance so she decided to put on a scarf as well to disguise herself as much as possible, just in case she’d run into someone she knew on her way to the store. She didn’t want to be recognised. Not today.

But of course Y/N wasn’t that lucky.

She ran into three people from her course, who all stopped her and chit-chatted to her about their seminars and latest assignment, all while she stood there with a basket full of various brands of crisps, drinks and candy feeling and looking like an absolute troll.

And that wasn’t even the worst.

No.

Because naturally it was also the day she bumped into someone, quite literally, in the stairs on her way back up to the flat.

Y/N yelped and accidentally dropped her bag of snacks as she tried to find her balance. A pair of hands caught her by the shoulders before she fell backwards and when she looked up to see who she had crashed into her whole face turned red.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” she apologized with wide eyes, her heart beating fast inside her chest.

“No worries,” the man in front of her said and removed his hands from her shoulders, but she kind of wished he hadn’t because his voice was so deep and smoky her knees weakened as he spoke.

Not to mention he had the most stunning pair of eyes she had ever seen. They were a deep, earthy brown color with perfectly long eyelashes she could only ever dream of. He was utterly breathtaking with his long dark hair, scruffy stubble and nose piercing, that she usually didn’t really like on boys but the stranger in front of her made it work. Oh how he made it work.

And as he leaned down to pick up her bag for her she caught a whiff of his fragrance and her knees were seconds away from giving up all together.

“Thank you,” she managed to croak out as he handed her the bag full of snacks and prayed he hadn’t seen what was in it. She looked pathetic enough as it was and she racked her brain for something else to say but there was nothing. Y/N was left completely gobsmacked by the breathtaking man she had just crashed into. Her cheeks only getting hotter and hotter for every second she stood there like a total idiot just staring at him in awe. “I’m Y/N.”

Y/N wanted nothing more than to just sink through the floor in embarrassment. The stranger, thankfully, reached out and shook her extended hand with an amused smile on his lips.

“Luke.”

Luke let his eyes wander up and down her body, taking in her attire, and she had never felt so unattractive as she did in that moment. Why didn’t she at least take a shower before going out? Fuck.

“Right,” she nodded and reached up to adjust her beanie a little, as if it was going to make her look any better. “So eh... do you live here? I haven’t seen you around before.”

What was she doing?

“I do,” Luke confirmed. “I moved in a couple days ago.”

“Awesome.”

Awesome? Fucking idiot. 

She was definitely losing her mind. While she did go on a lot of dates she had not been blessed with the ability to make small talk. 

“I’m guessing you live here as well?” Luke asked and ran a hand through his hair to push back a couple of strands from his face. It was the hottest thing she had ever seen.

“Yeah,” Y/N confirmed, her mouth dry, and she licked her lips nervously. “I’m on the top floor... aaand I should really get going. My roommate is waiting for me.”

“Of course.”

“It was nice to meet you though. Welcome to the building.” Her heart was still racing. “Again, I’m sorry for crashing into you.”

“Like I said, don’t worry about it. It was good to meet you too,” Luke told her and gave her a small wink. “See you around.”

And Y/N didn’t know how it happened but a strange cackle escaped her lips as he winked at her and she ran off before she could witness his reaction to it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered to herself all the way up to her and Harry’s flat.

Once she got inside she fell back against the door and tried to catch her breath, from both practically running up five flights of stairs and the encounter she had just had with probably the hottest man alive.

She really was pathetic.

After she got herself together she shrugged off her coat and pulled off her stupid beanie, cursing herself yet again for not taking a shower before going to the store. She could at least have put on a cute outfit. But no. She went out looking like a slob.  

And as she sauntered into the flat she realised that Harry was home again, and with him were Nate, Lucy and Connor as well. 

“Well if it isn’t the Quiz-Queen herself,” Nate teased when he saw her and bowed his head mockingly from where he was sitting on the couch. “Glad to see that you’re still alive after last night.”

“We have a new neighbour,” Y/N informed them, ignoring Nate and his teasing comments, because the new neighbour was the only thing on her mind. “I crashed into him on my way up. Literally. I made a complete fool out of myself.”

“Nothing new then,” Connor joked.

“Ha-ha,” Y/N said dryly. “For real though, he was the hottest man I’ve ever seen. He was unreal.”

“Really?” It got Lucy’s attention and she perked up from where she was sitting on the couch with Nate. “What did he look like?”

“Like a damn model right off the runway,” Y/N groaned and collapsed in one of the armchairs. “I’m telling you, he was unreal. Eyelashes that went on forever. Tall. Cheekbones that could cut glass and his hair was soooooo shiny. He didn’t have a single flaw. He even made a nose piercing look good and you know how I feel about those.”

“Aw, I wanna see him too,” Lucy pouted. “Did you get his name?”

“Luke.”

“So our serial dater has another date then I’m assuming,” Connor sniggered.

“I wish,” Y/N replied with a sigh. “I could hardly get a word out. I just stood there and stared at him like a creep.”

“You could always go over and ask to borrow a cup of sugar,” Nate suggested and wiggled his eyebrows. “And then just suck him off to return the favor.”

“You’re an idiot,” Y/N said and raised her middle finger towards him. It also earned him a slap on the arm from Lucy as she scolded her boyfriend. Connor laughed and made a comment about how it would be the perfect porn scene.

And it was also in that moment Y/N realised Harry hadn’t said anything since she had joined them. She glanced over at him where he sat in the armchair across from her and frowned. He looked tired and it caused the guilt in her to rise up again. In addition to that it troubled her that he wasn’t saying anything about the new neighbour or joining in on the jokes. He just sat in his seat and kept his eyes glued to the TV and the random show that was airing. “Harry?”

“What?”

There was something about how he spoke and how he turned to look at her that made her feel even worse. His voice was taut and low. His eyes burned right through her. It was far from the Harry she was used to. She wanted to ask him what was wrong but she also didn’t want to do so in front of the others if they hadn’t noticed it themselves.

“Um, I got some snacks if you want some,” Y/N said instead. She wasn’t sure if the others had noticed at all but she didn’t like it. Maybe he was angry with her for making him stay up so late? What if it had made him late for his seminar?

“Thank you,” he replied half-heartedly and turned his attention back to the TV without another word. Confusion filled the room and she met Lucy’s baffled expression for a split second. Okay they had noticed. Fuck. Y/N looked at Harry again and there was so much she wanted to ask him but at the same time she was at a loss for words. It wasn’t like him to be so tense. Not one bit.

She didn’t like it.

--

On Saturday they were all, once again, out getting drunk. After her hangover on Thursday Y/N had told herself she wasn’t going to drink again that week, but Harry was still being acting weird around her so she was easily persuaded.

Because she needed a drink.

Harry hadn’t really done anything, which was also part of the problem. She hadn’t seen him all Friday or Saturday, not until he turned up for pre-drinks at Connor’s flat. And once he was there he didn’t even look at her or talk to her. It bothered her. A lot. She hadn’t had the chance to ask him what was wrong and nothing was making sense. She tried to remember if she had said something inappropriate to him on Wednesday, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t figure out why he was being off with her.

Which is why, after a couple of drinks, she took the first chance she got to confront him about it.

She spotted him alone at one of the tables inside the club they were at and marched right up, ignoring the people she accidentally bumped into on her way, and plopped herself down on the leather sofa next to him. The beer she was carrying spilled over in her hand as she did but she paid no attention to it and Harry looked at her with questioning eyes.

“What’s going on with you?” Y/N wasted no time. The music was loud around them and she had to lean into him to make sure he heard her, his curls tickled her upper lip from how close she was. Harry only shrugged.

“Nothing is going on.”

“Oh really? Could’ve fooled me,” she said, almost shouting because of the music, and rolled her eyes. “You’re acting strange.”

“Nothing is going on,” Harry repeated and pursed his lips, looking away from her. Y/N tilted her head forward, to force him to look at her again, and waved her hand in front of his face.

“Look at me then,” she cried out in frustration. “Stop ignoring me and tell me what’s going on!”

It wasn’t the best spot for them to be having a conversation. A couple of people from the tables around them looked over curiously and the dim lights and loud music of club made it harder than what she would’ve liked. She had originally planned to talk to him that morning but he had gone out before she even woke up and it was the last sign she needed to know that he was avoiding her. So talking to him at a busy club felt like the only option. 

She flinched back as Harry unexpectedly turned to face her, almost knocking his head into hers.

”You know for wanting to find love so badly you’re really fucking blind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N frowned. Harry scoffed.

“You’re so oblivious,” he began. “If you just stopped being so desperate and so obsessed with finding the perfect guy for one damn second then maybe you’d-” Harry stopped himself and pressed his lips together in a thin line as he looked down at the beer in his hands. 

“Then what Harry?” she demanded, and didn’t even bother to try calm the anger that was stirring inside her. Harry ignoring her made her feel worse than she ever could’ve imagined. Nothing could’ve prepared her for it. She hated it. “I wouldn’t be so unlovable?”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Don’t,” Harry warned. “You know I would never say that. Don’t be daft.”  

“Do I?” she kept challenging him. The alcohol in her bloodstream gave her enough courage to not back down. Even if the loud music made it harder to hear what the other one was saying there was no way she was going to drop it. She needed to know what was going on. She couldn’t go another day with Harry ignoring her; she was too used to having him around for him to just cut her off.

“Yes, you do,” he spat.

“But you think I’m desperate?” she spat back and Y/N wasn’t sure why she was picking a fight with him in the middle of a full packed club, but she was.

Because at least he was talking to her.

“Yeah I do,” Harry admitted and licked his lips. She struggled to breathe a little after that. Her chest felt too tight. “Why are you so set on having the perfect relationship? No couple is perfect.”

“Lucy and Nate are,” she stated, not wanting her facade to falter in front of him. Her throat was dry but her eyes were burning with wet tears because she hated this. She hated it so much.

“No, they’re not,” Harry sneered loudly. “Both of them are far from fucking perfect. Nate is a menace and Lucy is a nutter.”

“Harry, don’t be a dick.”

“What? So just because they’re my friends I’m only allowed see the good in them? I still love both of them and they still love each other even if they’re not perfect,” he insisted. “You know they end up arguing like every night we go out, right? Over something stupid Nate said or some insane shit Lucy did. Do you know how many times Lucy has asked me for advice when it comes to Nate? They’re not perfect.”

“So I’m desperate because I want to find someone who is perfect for me?”

“What if you already have?”

“What?”

The music was still loud around them but suddenly the only thing she could hear was her own beating heart.

And suddenly she became aware of just how close the two of them actually were. Harry’s nose brushed against hers as his mouth carefully, barely, grazed her lips. His breath was hot on her face and oh wow, had his eyelashes always been that long?

Y/N wanted to reach out and touch him, but the way he was looking at her made her unable to move any part of her body. She was frozen; waiting for him to make the next move because she was far too overwhelmed by his presence to do anything herself. He was so close. Too close -- but at the same time not close enough. She wondered if he could hear her heart as well. 

“Oi, oi!”

Out of the blue Declan flopped down next to her on the sofa and just like that she was brought back into reality and away from Harry’s green eyes. Declan had two pints of beer with him and grinned at the two of them; clueless to what he had just interrupted. He didn’t come alone though, soon the rest of the gang had gathered around the small table. All so clueless.

Y/N watched as Harry drank what was left of his beer and glared at Declan and the rest while she tried to stop her head from spinning so much. What had just happened?

They were all talking around her but their voices got lost in the loud music and her own thoughts.

‘What if you already have?’ what was that even supposed to mean?

She wanted to turn and look at Harry again but she was too scared of what he might do or say and too scared that everyone else was going to notice something was wrong and ask them about it. Instead she just kept her eyes down to where her thigh was pressing into Harry’s after Declan had squeezed himself down beside them.

Thankfully no one else seemed to pick up on tension between the two of them but Y/N still regretted absolutely everything about her decision to talk to Harry. It hadn’t helped make anything clearer and she was now stuck next to him in a busy club with their drunk friends. Great.

To make things worse she then, out of nowhere, heard someone call her name and she nearly dropped her drink as she noticed who it belonged to. Well fuck.

“Luke.” 

His name fell from her lips as soon as she spotted him waving at her. He came up and stood behind Nate and Lucy, with his hands in his pockets and his hair slicked back perfectly. Lucy was quick to turn around to get a look at the guy Y/N had been raving about just a couple days ago. Then she looked at Y/N again with her jaw hanging open and gave her a look that confirmed Luke was indeed as flawless as he had been described. 

The tension was thick and awkward as Luke stood before her and her friends, more specifically Harry, and Y/N could feel him tense up beside her as he stared Luke down. She had no idea what to say or do. “This is our new neighbour I was telling you about,” was the only thing she could think of. The smirk on Luke’s face as he heard that she had been talking about him didn’t go unnoticed.

“Y’alright then?” Luke asked and nodded towards Y/N. She couldn’t breathe. How was he there? After everything that had just happened with Harry... where did Luke even come from? She hadn’t processed her conversation with Harry yet, how was she supposed to have a conversation with Luke again, in front of everyone, when her head was so scrambled?

“Yeah, I’m great.” What a fucking lie.

“Can I buy you a drink?��

“Oh.” What was happening? “Ummmm, I don’t - well I - ehm I-”

“Yes! She would love a drink!” Tara interrupted her with a big grin, and any other time she would’ve been grateful for her friend stepping in and helping, but now? “Wouldn’t you?” Y/N wasn’t even sure.

“I ehhh - well, I guess so?”

What?

Her whole body was screaming NO when she got up and felt Harry’s warmth leave her side. His eyes burned into her back and it was a miracle she even made it to the bar with Luke without vomiting right there and then.

Two days ago, when she first bumped into Luke, all she wanted was to go on a date with him. But something had changed. Something inside her had clicked, and it wasn’t her hormones or the alcohol this time. All she could think about as Luke talked to her and bought her a new drink was how he wasn’t Harry.

Luke didn’t know how she liked her tea. Luke didn’t know she couldn’t go straight to bed after watching a thriller or anything that resembled a scary movie; she needed to watch something more upbeat and cheerful before going to sleep. Luke didn’t know she liked to keep things in order. Luke didn’t know she ate her weight in chocolate when she got her period. Luke didn’t know she loved mint chocolate chip ice cream. Luke didn’t know she called her mum at least once a day. Luke didn’t know she was desperate to find love. 

Harry did.

Harry knew all those things.

And as she stood at the bar with Luke she realised he wasn’t actually flawless. He was still gorgeous, only a little less breathtaking that time around because he knew he looked good and he wasn’t humble about it. He smelled like cigarettes and she hated the smell of smoke mixed with his strong cologne. It gave her a headache. He also couldn’t keep his eyes off her cleavage and didn’t bother asking her anything about herself.

His nose piercing didn’t even look that good.

Luke wasn’t flawless and she didn’t really like him. 

Harry wasn’t flawless either... but she still liked him. 

“And that’s when we-”

“You know what Luke,” she interrupted and put a finger up to stop him from talking. “I think I have to get back to my friends. But um... “ She glanced at the drink he had bought her before picking it up and downed it in one go, because he had paid for it and the least she could do was drink it. The alcohol burned a little in the back of her throat and she accidentally spilled a few drops down her shirt. She hardly noticed though because she was just aching to get back to her friends. Luke looked at her with wide eyes and a puzzled expression. “Thanks for the drink! I’ll see you around.”

With that she walked off with just one thing, or rather someone, on her mind.

But that someone wasn’t there when she found her friends again. She spotted Lucy and her bright dress sitting on Nate’s lap. She spotted Tara having a conversation with a girl from the table next to them. She spotted Declan and Connor laughing loudly over something on their phones.

She did not spot Harry.

Tara was the first one to notice her standing there just staring at the empty seat where Harry was sat a while ago. Tara excused herself from the conversation she was having and came up to Y/N, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Where is Harry?”

“He left,” Tara told her. “I think.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” Lucy came up to her as well, with a small frown on her face, worried something had happened. “Is everything alright?”

“I need to talk to Harry,” Y/N said and looked around the club; hoping to spot his curls somewhere in the crowd. Her eyes stung with tears when she couldn’t see him.

“He left after you walked off,” Lucy confirmed softly. “Is everything alright? Did something happen with Luke?”

“Yes- I mean no. I have to go,” was all she told them before she rushed off. “I need Harry.”

Y/N wasn’t aware of the three words that left her mouth but it didn’t make them any less true. It all made so much sense. It had clicked. ‘What if you already have?’ 

Yes. 

How could she have been so blind?

--

When she finally made it home she was out of breath from running all the way from the bus stop to their flat. She prayed Harry had actually gone home and not continued his night at some other club. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if he had. 

But as soon as she stepped inside she heard the familiar sound of his guitar coming from his bedroom and she didn’t even bother catching her breath before walking across the flat in a couple of strides. She hadn't really thought anything through. Her whole body was just screaming at her that she needed Harry and it couldn't wait. 

Harry left his dirty dishes out. He sometimes forgot to put the toilet seat down. He was disorganized. He did not only leave his dirty dishes out but he could also leave his dirty socks lying around the flat. He didn't like the same music as her. He could be petty and immature. He had ignored her for two days. 

But Harry also made her tea when she was having a bad day. He made her laugh. He made her food in middle of the night. He always asked about her day. He helped her home when she got too drunk. He sometimes surprised her with breakfast. He understood her. He made her feel at ease and she could always be herself around him. 

All of the good thing outweighed the bad, and the bad was only part of who he was; Harry, her roommate, her friend, the boy who she hadn't realised gave her butterflies until now.

And perhaps she should’ve knocked or at least made her presence known in any other way because as she slung his bedroom door open Harry was visibly startled and a sour note came from his guitar. He looked at her with wide eyes. 

“Y/N? What the fuck?”

“Do I have any flaws?” she asked him breathlessly. 

“What?” he asked. “What do you mean?” 

“What about me annoys you?” 

 “Shouldn’t you be off getting a drink with Mr. Flawess himself.”

“Well I changed my mind. Now just answer the question,” she urged, wanting to cut straight to the chase. Harry frowned and she wasn’t really sure if he was angry with her or just confused. Maybe both? It didn’t matter though, she just needed answers before she passed out from the anxiety running through her. “Do I have any flaws?”

“I - yeah. You do,” he said. Y/N nodded and stepped further into his room, wanting to be closer to him. “Why?” 

“Just - wait,” she told him and ignored his question by asking her own. “What are they?”

Harry didn’t reply at first. He just sat in silence and stared at her with his brows still pressed together in a frown. God, what if she had gotten it all wrong? She’d have to give up the flat to Harry and move out, leave Manchester, maybe even leave the UK. She’d be absolutely mortified; she’d never recover from it. 

Just as she lost all hope and considered running off to hide in her own bedroom for the rest of the night, possibly for the rest of the term, Harry slowly put his guitar to the side. He rubbed his hand over his chin and pinched the bottom of his lip between his index finger and his thumb, contemplating his next few words cautiously.

“You’re incredibly stubborn,” he told her and despite the fact that he had just basically insulted her a wave relief washed over her as he finally said something. 

“Okay, what else?” 

“You ask way too many questions during a movie.”

“Okay.”

“You overthink absolutely everything.”

“More.”

“You leave notes around the flat over the most meaningless things.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t leave the kitchen a mess then.”

“You have too much milk in your tea.”

“You don’t have enough.”

Harry cracked a smile but it faltered almost just as quickly.

“You want love but don’t see the person right in front of you who has fallen head over heels for you.”

Y/N had never seen or heard him as vulnerable as he was right there and then. For a moment she wondered if maybe she had misheard him but judging by his nervous fidgeting and how he for the first time ever struggled to look her in the eyes she quickly realised she hadn’t.  

“I do now,” she admitted quietly, almost too quiet, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other awkwardly. “I see you.” 

Harry still heard her and looked right into her eyes as he took a sharp breath. Her body ached to feel his touch as she stood in the middle of his room, terrified of what she was about to ask next, but there was no going back. It was, after all, the reason she had followed him home. “And you still like me despite all my flaws?”

“Well,” Harry started and fought back a smile. “I suppose I wouldn’t have saved all your notes if I didn't.” 

It was really all it took for her to close the space between them and throw herself over him. Harry was quick to catch her and his arms wrapped around her body tightly, holding her close, as she pressed her lips to his.

It was strange kissing him and she didn’t quite know where to put her own hands at first, but it felt right that much she knew. Her whole body was on fire from just a simple little kiss. Y/N never wanted it to stop. Harry grinned against her lips before deepening the kiss and sneaked his hands in under her blazer, pushing it off her shoulders before running his hands over her body. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and it was almost ridiculous how giddy she felt. Harry made her feel drunk, more so than the alcohol in her body. Nothing had ever tasted as good as him. She was completely lost in him and his warmth. 

It wasn’t until she felt him pull at her trousers that she was reminded of reality again and she pulled away from his lips. “You okay?” Harry asked immediately.

“Yeah,” she panted and leaned her forehead against his, twirling the hair in the back of his neck around her finger carefully. “I just... I still got my period.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded and tightened his grip on her, still holding her close, and she was sure she could feel his heartbeat against hers. “S’that all? Because frankly I don’t really care about a little blood right now.”

“Oh.”

“Do you?”

“I... no.”

“You sure?” Harry wondered and placed his fingers under her chin and angled her face so he could look into her eyes. He saw right through her and her mind was hazy as her body melted right into his. Harry made her feel safe and comfortable and it was all she needed to know she was sure.  

She needed him. 

“Give me a second,” she said and gave him a quick peck before getting off him. It pained her to do so but even as she made her way over to the bathroom to remove her tampon, perhaps one of the most unattractive things you could do, Harry’s eyes on her as she walked away made her feel sexier than she ever had before.

She didn’t waste a single second inside the bathroom and quickly did what she had to before she just about ran back to Harry’s bedroom. She caught a quick glimpse of herself in the mirror and couldn’t help but laugh. She looked dazed. But in the best possible way. Her cheeks were rosy. Her hair was messy. Lips swollen. It was the first time she had ever seen herself look so radiant. Glowing almost. 

Happy.

She also decided to not put her trousers back on after she was done in the bathroom, because why waste time when she was planning to take them off soon anyway?

And Harry seemed to have had the same idea because when she came back he had already removed his floral shirt and his beige trousers as well. His lips were the same colour as her lipstick and he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring at her bare legs and underwear. It made her whole body tingle and she didn’t mind him gawking, because she couldn’t take her own eyes away from his naked chest and the bulge between his legs.

“Come here,” Harry murmured and held out his hand for her to take. He gently pulled at her arm until she was sitting on top of him on the bed, straddling his hips. The lack of clothing on both of them made her blush as he embraced her and she felt all of him under her.  

Harry cupped one of his hands under her jaw and leaned in to kiss her again. It started out slow but as soon as his lips touched her a soft moan came from her. His lips were slightly chapped and yet they were the best lips she had ever kissed. It didn't matter that they weren’t perfectly soft. Not one bit. Y/N never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again. 

The kiss quickly deepend and she had her hands in his hair, tugging at his soft curls and getting lost in the taste of his lips. She was throbbing against him and knew he could also feel just how desperately she wanted him through the thin lace of her panties. His lips were eager against hers and she was too lost in him to notice he had blindly reached out to the bedside table and sought out a condom.

It wasn’t until she felt his hand and the small foil packet brush against her leg that she realised. She pulled back and met his green eyes, breathing hard as she tried to find her words to speak. He looked back at her with questioning eyes, silently asking her if she was alright with what was happening between them, and she just nodded. 

She sat back to give him some room and watched as he pulled himself out of his boxers and then helped him get them off before he rolled the condom over his length. The sight alone made her light-headed and, if he hadn’t already, she was sure he could hear how hard her heart was beating. He also caught her staring but she didn’t really care and he only pulled her back into him.

He kissed her along her collarbone, sucking lightly at the skin as he made his way up to her neck. Y/N closed her eyes and hummed with pleasure as she tilted her head to the side to give him better access. Harry ran his hands up and down her back and then slipped his hands in under the tank top she was wearing before he pulled it off her swiftly. 

Harry took a few seconds to stare at her naked chest when he discovered she wasn’t wearing a bra before he kissed each of her breasts lightly, making her nipples hard. Y/N just cupped his face and pulled his head up so she could kiss him again, impatient and desperate to feel him inside her and he giggled against her lips. 

Harry only pushed the crotch of her underwear to the side when he lined himself up under her. She gasped as she slowly sank down onto him and had to break their kiss. Harry had one hand around her thigh and the other on the back of her head, her hair twisted between his fingers, as they breathed the same air. 

When she eventually started to move her hips after getting used to the stretch of him he groaned softly, low in his throat, and tightened the grip he had on her. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Her blood rushed inside her and her whole chest and face flushed from hearing his words and how hoarse his voice was. She put her hands on his stomach, her fingers digging into his skin around his tattoo, before lifting her hips and taking all of him again; craving the friction created between the two of them.

Harry moaned and let his head fall backwards, breathing heavily, and she couldn’t take her eyes away from his strong jawline. She also couldn’t stop herself from kissing him right there and Harry moaned again as he felt her lips on his skin. 

It made her smile; knowing she was having the same affect on him that he had on her. 

Y/N did her best to find a steady rhythm riding him but her thighs were trembling around him and it had been awhile since she had been on top of anyone. She had almost forgotten how to do it. Harry bucked his hips up into her and she barely had time to react before he impatiently flipped them over and yanked her underwear off.

A loud moan left her lips as he pushed right back into her and instantly built up a new quicker pace, giving her all of him and hitting the spot in her that made her toes curl. He leaned down and connected their mouths again. His chest was slick with sweat as his body pressed against hers and her hands were all over him because she just couldn’t decide where to put them. She wanted all of him. 

And when Harry hoisted himself up and hooked one of her legs over his shoulder to get deeper she didn’t care if any of their neighbours heard her.

“Oh my god.”

Then his fingers were stroking her between her legs and it quite literally took her breath away. Her whole body was trembling as she felt every hot and thick inch of him. Her release was close, she could feel it in the pit of her stomach and he could see it on her as he continued to move above her.

And not once did Harry lose his pace or falter when her nails scratched his back and she clenched tightly around him as her orgasm swept through her body. He kept thrusting into her while she moaned and shivered beneath him.

Just as she came down from her high he got his own release and came with a loud sigh of relief. He continued to move his hips against hers until his muscles gave up from exhaustion and he collapsed on top of her.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, both spent, and she tried to catch her breath. 

Which was hard seeing as he was still on top of her and she could still feel him inside her.

When he raised his head to look down at her, grinning from ear to ear, her whole stomach fluttered. And this time she knew it was because of Harry. It wasn’t because of alcohol. Not because she had a hangover. Not because she was stressed. Maybe because of a few hormones. 

But there were just no excuses. 

Eventually Harry got up. He removed the used condom and retrieved a small towel to clean himself up quickly before handing it over and climbing back into bed with her.

Y/N curled up against his chest and let him run his fingers through her hair, gently scratching the top of her head, and she was seconds away from falling asleep when he spoke up.

“I’m sorry for calling you desperate.”

Y/N tilted her head up to look at him.

“S’okay, I have been a little.”

“Still,” he mumbled. “Wasn’t really fair of me.”

“You know you could’ve just told me.”

“I was going to,” Harry admitted with a low chuckle. “But you always came back home announcing you were going on another date so it never really felt like the right time.”

“Hmm, well you didn’t really help yourself by bringing a girl back like every weekend,” she pointed out and laughed lightly. “It was hard to not be blind.”

“Had to try to forget about you somehow,” Harry admitted and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, letting his lips linger for a few seconds before continuing. “But you and your stupid post-it notes made it hard.”

“Did you really save all of them?” she asked and pushed herself up so she was leaning on her elbows. She couldn’t stop herself from grinning proudly. Harry laughed and tipped his head back, covering his face with his hands as his cheeks turned pink.

“God, I’m gonna regret telling you that aren’t I?”

“Maybe,” she laughed again before giving his chest a quick kiss, just because she could. “I do kind of enjoy writing them for you though.”

“Of course you do,” Harry said and peaked out from behind his hands with a cheeky smile. “And I enjoy leaving the kitchen a mess because I know you’ll leave me a new one,” he confessed and tapped her nose. 

“I fuckin’ knew it!” she exclaimed with a gasp and shoved him away from her playfully. “You absolute knobhead!” 

Harry only laughed and pulled her back into his warm body. 

On her way back home from the club Y/N had been a little bit worried that she was wrong or that it was going to be weird to go from roommates to more with Harry -- but it felt like the most natural thing. It felt just as natural as everything else they already did together, and maybe that was why she had been so picky recently. Maybe it was why she looked for flaws in every guy she dated so she had an excuse to not see them again. She had already found what she wanted; she just hadn’t realised. How stupid.

“Hey Harry?”

“Hm?”

“Would you like to go on a date with me?”

-- 

please let me know your thoughts here ! And please share it if you liked it, it would mean a lot to me! 💛

[littlemisslipbalm]

So for the fallinharry10k thing I’ve gone off the rails...my trope is friends with benefits and I’ve put y/n in the band and it’s getting really messy and I’m trying to make it clear that Harry is emotionally unavailable but also I want them to be together...how do we feel about sacrificing realistic-ness for love ???? hm