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writingsfromhome · 3 months ago

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In Plain Sight

A/N: I wanted to play with the idea of 2 characters falling in love at different points in a story and what that would be like on each side. Idk if I fully captured what I wanted but I liked writing from harry/reader pov like this even though I kept switching partways lol.

Would love to know for inspo purposes—how do you know you’re falling?

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This is a first, you thought as you and Claire walked into the art gallery—one of your friends had a show of their unique pieces, mixing tech with traditional art. All of it was inspired by their partner, the lead in an indie pop band so to tie it all together they were playing at the gallery while the pieces hung on the walls, rippling with their programmed light and movement.

Take a posh gallery and stitch it with a rave. That’s kind of what it looked like in there.

“Guess I didn’t need to look so fancy,” Claire says in your ear. You two had spent the last half hour sorting your closets to figure out what was art-show appropriate.

“Let’s find Mimi,” you shout back.

You weave through the crowds, staying on the outskirts and spot her all the way up the front by the stage. You both agree to find her later and opt for a drink instead.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight,” Claire comments as a tall guy brushes by, eyeing the length of her with a smirk before walking away. “Maybe you will.”

“That’d be nice,” you sigh. You hated being the chronically single one of your friends but that’s just how it went. Well it went beyond that—you felt unlucky in love.

Every relationship you poured yourself into and every relationship failed, just like that.

You were unloveable, maybe. You were lonely, definitely. So you’d take the warmth of a stranger where you could get it.

“I have an idea,” Claire says. “We dance our way through the crowd, I’ll be your wingwoman and we can make our way through towards Mimi. You’re so going home with someone tonight.”

You hold your glass up in agreement, you’d learned to just go with Claire’s ideas. Somehow they never worked in your favour, but that’s what you got for having a best friend that was a smokeshow. It used to bother you, but now in your late 20s after seeing Claire go through men like she went through shoes, it didn’t matter. The guys she went for also wanted a fun time like her. You wanted someone in it for the long run.

The men who felt the pull of her magnet were never meant for you anyway.

It felt mature, to think like that.

As Claire pulls you in, you find yourself dancing with male body after male body, hands on parts of you you barely touched yourself. You feel the familiar hollowness of loneliness. It was a constant companion, and yet never made you feel any less lonely.

Across the room stand two guys, they both watch Claire throw her head back and laugh. The purple and blue lights from above dance over her skin, she looked like a muse come to life. Like she was born from this art gallery.

“Mate. She’s beautiful,” Harry, the taller of the two, comments.

“You gonna talk to her?” Dylan asks. “Because if you’re not…”

“Give me a sec,” Harry got stupidly nervous around beautiful women. Which was stupid because he interacted with them on a daily basis, but that’s probably why he was considered a bit shy by people who met him. Shy was the nice way of saying awkward.

The thing with Harry is that he grew up as a wallflower. But in his mid 20s he started earning the attention of women. Pretty women. He felt like his pot of luck had been filled and then some, and yet he only got lucky on occasion. The problem was he just didn’t know what to do with his newfound attractiveness. Even 5 years on.

“There she goes,” Dylan comments as their muse moves to the bar. “Go on.”

Harry swears under his breath but makes his beeline towards her before anyone else could swoop in.

“Hiya,” Harry slides in beside her and then curses. He should have gone for something more suave. “Can I get you something-“

“I already ordered,” she smiles and Harry confirms she’s more beautiful than any of the crazy art in this room.

“Well it’s on me.”

“Thanks,” she takes him in. He tries not to squirm or think about what impression he was making. “I’m Claire.”

“Right. I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you Harry.”

“Likewise…So, erhm, you like dancing?”

She tilts her head, “I do. I was just down there.”

“I know.” Harry says. She raises a brow. Shite. “I mean like I saw you dancing. In the middle. You made it look like a fun time.”

“It is. Is dancing not fun for you?” She laughs. Her drink arrives and Harry pays for it orders for himself.

“I don’t do it a lot.” Harry taps his fingers on the bar. “I like the music part. That make you want to dance.”

She gives him that look. The look that told him he’d tipped the scales too far off to recover. Why couldn’t he just explain he made music? And dancing and making music went hand in hand. Why was that so hard to say??

“Well I’m going back in,” she announces. “Feel free to join.”

And of course he doesn’t. Because she would probably inch away from him if he did until the crowd swallowed her away.

“How’d it go? Make a good impression?” Dylan asks but Harry just downs half his drink and hopes that answers Dylan’s question. He’d made an impression alright.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the dancefloor you move to the heavy drums. This was one of your favourite songs by this group; it was on replay on your Spotify. The girl beside you grins at you and you both move in sync, shouting the lyrics. It’s more fun than you’d had with any guy here tonight.

When the band takes their break and a playlist replaces the live music, you try to find Claire. It’s surprising she doesn’t have a bloke already wrapped around her this late into the night.

“The line to the toilet is stupidly long,” she complains. “I don’t feel so good. Can we get air?”

“Of course,” you grip her arm and help her out. The night air is crisp compared to the recycled air inside. You take in a lungful.

“Hey,” Claire spots someone she knows and she moves towards them. You trail behind her as she walks up to two blokes smoking off to the side. “I never saw you dancing in there!”

The guy she’s talking to shrugs, his cheeks taking on a pinkish colour. He’s cute in a boyish way, but you reckon if he trimmed his hair and grew some scruff, he could be a lot more interesting to gaze at. A face that could hang in this art gallery, a soft pink light shimmering on the highs of his cheekbones.

His eyes clash with yours and you throw a friendly smile and make a conscious effort to join the group. You hadn’t heard what was said in the time you were admiring his face.

“I would if I hadn’t broken my foot a month ago,” the other guy says. He was a cold good-looking. Sharp features accentuated by a buzzcut. You could imagine him in an avant-garde spread of a magazine.

“Excuses!” Claire teases. She was good at this. “I was telling your friend here how fun dancing was, that he should join.”

“And he didn’t?! Harry, mate, we all know you dance.”

“Not the right setting.” He replies. Almost mumbles.

“Any setting is the right setting for dancing,” his friend says.

“Right!” Claire latches onto him, you knew her well enough she’d chosen her prey for tonight. “I feel like dancing is such a good release, any time music comes on my foot just-“

“Can’t hold it in right?” The other friend laughs. “Me too. When I’m on the tube I’m like how do I get into this without looking like a weirdo.”

Claire’s laugh crackles into the air. You smile, she was going home with him for sure.

You glance at Harry, he’s looking after her like a sad puppy. You’d seen that look too many times—dejected.

“I bet you wished you liked dancing more huh?” You tease, quiet so it doesn’t travel to the couple.

“Huh?” He looks at you like he just noticed you were standing beside him. “Oh. No?”

“Right.” Well this was awkward. “So you’re Harry. I’m y/n.”

“Oh sorry,” Claire says when she hears your name. “We’re so rude we just closed ourselves off to these two. This is y/n. and I just learned that this is Dylan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dylan smiles at you. “Harry are you okay if we split?”

Claire looks at you, asking the same question with her eyes. You nod, and she smiles at you gratefully. Her eyes widen and she motions subtly with her head to Harry. You smile like it was a good idea but you know he wasn’t an option; he was one of Claire’s castaways. But she was too oblivious for that.

“Then there were two,” you joke, reaching for the familiar line. “Are you going back in?”

“In there?” He shakes his head. “We already said our goodbyes. I might just head home.”

“Oh okay. Did you know the artist?”

“I don’t. Dylan’s cousin is the lead singer in the band? We came by to support the show.”

“That’s nice.” You respond back even though he didn’t return the question. “I’ve worked with the artist actually—Jemima.”

“Cool. I take it you’re an artist yourself?” He asks, finally looking at you instead of around you.

“Yep. I do photography.”

A group of people exit the show and their noise drowns out whatever Harry was about to say. Without warning, like a valve opened, your chest fills with the ache of a feeling.

What am I doing here, you ask yourself. You’d come by to support Mimi, but you didn’t owe this guy anything. You should go home, do your usual routine of staring at the ceiling, hearing Claire come in late, try to drift to sleep, and then finally doing so.

Sometimes being with others felt more lonely than being alone.

“Anyway, it was nice meeting you Harry. I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh.” He seems surprised. “You’re leaving for home?”

“Well, yeah?” You shrug. “I’ve made my rounds, danced enough to need a gallon of water. My feet are telling me to go home.”

“You ladies talk about dancing and I feel like I missed out,” he laughs but it comes off kind of awkward and shy. It’s endearing.

You change your mind then—you imagine posing him at 3/4 angle and snapping him from below. Maybe a shot looking through his lashes. Something mysterious yet welcoming. The longer you got to know him, the more he shifted.

“Does that mean you want to go back in again?” You ask.

“Fuck it sure. If you come too. I don’t want to dance alone.”

“Why not? Have you never?”

“Danced alone?” He holds the door open for you and you go in. His energy seems to have shifted. He’s less awkward, more relaxed, but it still feels like you don’t have his full attention. Or maybe that was just your insecurities projected onto a beautiful man.

“I dare you,” you have to tip toe for him to hear you once you’re back in. You use both your hands on his back and guide/push him through the crowd. When you let go you open your arms wide.

He shakes his head and tries to grab your hands but you back away. “Dance!” You shout. “Let’s see.”

He laughs, his head weighing backwards like the ceiling could grant him some confidence, the length of his neck glistening with something you wanted to taste.

When he looks at you again you chant to dance and he shrugs away his shyness. Before you know it he’s moving until he’s actually in sync with the beat. You try not to be a creep, sneaking your phone out. He was a complete stranger but god the photo opportunity was perfect.

You manage two before he turns and finds you in the crowd again. He pulls you closer to him, nearly chest to chest.

“I should be a lot more drunk to be doing this.” He says in your ear. Goosebumps erupt down your arms.

Take it easy.

The two of you end up dancing for a few songs, laughing at new moves you put on. It becomes a contest to do a silly but serious move and you’re in stitches by the time the two of you stumble out.

“Jeez that was fun,” you lean against the brick fence a few buildings down. You were sweaty and out of breath, your body demanding hydration now.

“I have not done something like that in years. It was nice.” He grins. It feels like a secret. “Thank you for pushing me in.”

You felt like you should be thanking him, for the fun and for making you feel included tonight. But of course he ruins it when he opens his mouth next.

“You can tell your friend Claire I ended up dancing. It was a proper good time.”

“Yeah,” you fake a smile, the aching wound reawakening in your chest. “Maybe I will. I’m headed that way though, I’ll see you around Harry.”

His face falls for a moment, you can see him try to figure out asking you to stay but wondering why you’d gone so cold. You hated how a good looking man could fool you into thinking he could be smart. But this one was as daft as they came.

You wave and turn towards the direction of your station, feeling a bitter chill that wasn’t coming from the weather.

***

The next time you see Harry is about a month later. Claire had been seeing Dylan—they hadn’t labelled it according to her so it was still casual. But she felt good about it because he was having a thing at his flat and he’d invited her. So you join Claire since he’d extended the invitation.

“Maybe you’ll see his friend Harry.” She sings as you turn the corner to his street.

“I already told you nothing happened that night.”

“Maybe because you went home after having a marvellous dance-off with him!”

“He kinda got like soggy bread!” You complain. “If it weren’t for me the conversation would have gone stale.”

“Same here. When he spoke to me I mean,” Claire laughs. “Dylan did say he’s a bit shy. Just give him another chance.”

“He’s not interested-“

“You’re so harsh on yourself. Of course he would be! He’d be lucky to be with you…”

You let Claire launch into her tirade. Although you appreciated it, it ignored the fact that someone could just not be interested in you. Especially after fancying your friend first.

Dylan’s flat ends up being nicer than you thought, a lot of windows and fancy tech things around.

“Just call her,” you and Claire walk up to Dylan, Harry, and another guy. Dylan seems to be lecturing Harry on something.

“Call who?” Claire asks.

“Hey,” Dylan kisses her hello. “This girl Harry went to uni with. He bumped into her when she was walking her dog. Harry thinks they hit it off, but he refuses to call her!”

“Why not?!” You and Claire ask. Further proof he wasn’t into you.

“Well I friended her on Instagram and she’s just ignored it!” Harry explains.

“So? Maybe she doesn’t use instagram.” Claire offers.

“She does. I had Dylan request too and she accepted his.”

“Oh?” You notice the pitch change in Claire but nobody else does of course.

“I unfollowed her after,” Dylan says. Or maybe he did hear the change. Smart man.

The friends gathered in the room shift and flow around each other, you lose Claire pretty quickly after the hour mark like you usually did. Eventually it’s you and Harry again, sitting on the couch.

Just like soggy bread, he’s mostly silent with beer in his hand. You get tired of the silence so eventually you slide closer to him.

“So what’s with the girl from uni? Do you have history?”

“Huh?” He seems startled out of his thoughts. “Oh. Her. No we had a few classes, saw her at parties that sort of thing.”

“But it seemed promising when you saw her recently?”

“I think so?”

Poor Harry, he couldn’t even tell the difference.

“What about her number? Or try DM-ing her.”

“I don’t wanna be desperate.”

“Fine,” you think. “Nevermind. She’s probably not into you.”

“But she kept touching my arm,” Harry recalls. “Why would she touch me if she wasn’t interested?”

You look at his physique. It wasn’t anything extraordinary but you can see the temptation to touch his arms.

Meanwhile Harry watches you eye him. It was kind of funny to him. He didn’t know why Claire’s best friend always remained at the end of the night but she was easy to talk to so he didn’t mind. Better than pretending to be interested in whatever Dylan’s tech-bros were talking about.

He hadn’t actually seen Dylan in a while. Probably off with Claire, he thinks with a sigh.

“Yeah nevermind.” Harry hears you say. It’s then he realized he’d tuned you out while his brain had been running. And you had taken his sigh as a response to what you were explaining.

The conversation falls flat after that. And when Harry goes for another drink you decline, deciding it was time to head home.

Surprisingly, Harry says he could use the time away and walks you to the station. Claire was spending the night but mostly he just wanted out of the flat. Walking you a few blocks away was a good enough excuse.

***

A few weeks go by before you find yourself alone with Harry again. It was someone’s birthday, or two people’s. You forgot what exactly was the excuse you took to get out of the house. All you had to know was there were people and an open bar.

Again, you started off in a group but couples drifted away until the two of you remained. You had been standing in Harry’s blind spot so when the last couple leaves, he notices it was you.

“Hey.” Harry says to you but his eyes look out into the room, even his body faces the crowd’s direction. He should have known you were here after seeing Claire cozy up with Dylan.

It should make you feel shittier but you’re almost used to it. After a week of working from home hunched over your table editing photos for yesterday’s deadline you would take any social interaction. No matter how stale. Or soggy.

“Hey!” You elbow him so he looks at you at least. “It's been a while hasn’t it? How’s life treating you these days?”

“Yeah, it's fine.”

“Cool, yeah. Any exciting projects keeping you busy lately or…?”

“Not really. Just the usual keeping me busy right now. Same old routine y’know.”

“Right, right.” You could feel him slip away again. “Yeah. Work can be a drag. I’m pretty sure I gave myself scoliosis being hunched over for 10 hours a day this week. I’d rather fold laundry than do that again, and you probably don’t know this, but I absolute hate folding laundry. But yeah that’s my thrilling life. Anything you've been doing in your free time?”

“Nah. Just trying to stay on top of work.”

“Right.” He was the busiest man on earth apparently. “So everyone at the party’s talking about the new Love Island season. You watch it?”

“Not really into TV these days. Busy with work and all that?”

“Right. You mentioned. I did too.” You nod. “I had a lot of deadlines this week so very busy too. Busy busy. I actually got so stir-crazy I started talking to my plants? It felt silly, but my nan was saying it does help them grow so…it’s a win-win. Or maybe it’s the isolation makes you appreciate the little things…”

“Right.” Harry nods along. He’s looked at you twice this whole time. Well, glanced was more like it. And suddenly you want to scream because it was utterly unfair that you only knew him at any of these godforsaken parties. And he never wanted to talk to you, or cared to.

You’d seen him with Dylan, even with Claire! He was more animated and interested then, even though he stammered through half of it. Was there something wrong with you that put you in gray-scale in this crowd of colourful people?

You’re not Claire, the stupid voice in your head reminds you.

I didn’t need to be Claire, you remind yourself.

“So what about that girl you fancied?” You try to ask him something he might be interested in; you hated how desperate you were getting for company. “From uni? Anything come of that?”

“What?” He finally looks at you. “Oh her. No she uhm. Well embarrassing but she has a bloke. I misread the whole thing-“

“You said she was all touchy!”

“Yeah she was wasn’t she?” He scratches his head. “I dunno, i suppose she’s always been like that. So yeah, nothing happened there.”

He chuckles like he’s embarrassed, yet the smile brightens his face. It makes you a little more upset and you don’t know why.

“Maybe you dodged a bullet. Anyway. I’m gonna make some rounds. I’ll catch you around-“

“What?” He actually turns to you now. “Why?”

“What?!”

“Why you leaving?”

“I’m not leaving. I’m just doing a circle. And getting another drink.”

“Oh,” his shoulders drop a little. You’re confused, because he didn’t seem interested in having you around at all until you were leaving. “Good.”

“I didn’t think you’d miss me if I was gone with your half-ass answers.” You say before you can think. He looks a little stupefied.

“Half-ass?”

“Or were you just being a whole ass?”

“Huh?” He closes the gap between you again. “I was listening to what you were talking about.”

“Yeah. Just listening. It felt like having a conversation with paint while it dried.”

“I’d think that’s better than houseplants?”

You’re a bit stunned—he had been listening. But still. He wasn’t keeping up conversation.

“Now see if you made a joke about it back then it would have been funny. A back-and-forth conversation? Now it’s just a desperate attempt to keep me around. I don’t know what for.”

“It’s not desperate,” he argues. “I didn’t realize you’re so needy.”

You raise a brow, “I am not needy.”

“I think you are,” he grins and with his full attention on you and that stupidly smarmy grin you feel that pull again. Too bad it was just one-sided.

“I’m not. I’ll prove it by leaving your presence for good tonight. See you next time Harry.”

“Don’t be like that,” he calls after you. “And I like to keep you around because I thought we were friends!”

Your stride falters as you’re walking away. You weren’t expecting him to say that.

But wasn’t he just friends because both your friends were dating each other?

What are you even doing here with these people, the thought comes back to you again. The same one that always floated through your mind being in these sorts of places.

If Claire wasn’t dating Dylan you wouldn’t even be here. God, you needed to hang out with friends other than Claire.

***

You unwrap the belt that ties your coat closed and drop it all to the floor. Well not all, your cameras get let down gently.

Your shoulders ached. And your back and your head and your arms. Jeez.

You had a wedding gig that was paying most of this month’s rent, so you had to take it. The only thing is your job started at 6am and ended at 8pm. That was more than half a day and you were spent.

“Hey you’re home!” Claire waves at you as you pass her. She has her phone held out in front of her face, you hear Dylan’s voice on the other end.

“Is that yn? Hii!”

“Hi,” you croak to Dylan. Claire juts her lip out at the sight of you.

“I’ve already done dinner,” she says over the top of the screen. “I’m going out with Dylan and some friends later you wanna come?”

You shake your head. She knows what a low battery yn looked like.

“Okay fine. Leftovers are in the fridge for you.”

“God I love you,” you tell her as you close your bedroom door behind you and collapse into bed.

You liked it when Claire was happy in a relationship, or whatever she called them, but when she wasn’t these were the nights she’d follow you into your room after a big shoot and ask about the details. And you’d complain about the pushy customers eventually moving to how beautiful everything was. She was usually the first person to see your raw images.

But tonight while she talks to Dylan you turn on your humidifier and let the low hushing noise lull you into a relaxing trance. You remember that you only had yourself. That you had to learn to be happy with that, lonely or not.

***

Claire promised to do kitchen duty for the whole week if you came out to Jemima’s partner’s gig. And you couldn’t deny a week of no dishes or meal prep, so you drag your ass out the door despite riding on 4 hours of sleep for the last few nights. But you met your deadline this afternoon so this was as good of a celebration as any. Even if it was a Thursday night.

“So you and Dylan are getting serious huh?” You ask Claire on the tube over.

“Kinda?”

“It’s been over 3 months. Half the time you were with you know who.”

You-know-who, her one relationship that actually meant something to her. Crashed and burned two years ago.

“No,” she blushes. “It’s just, he’s pretty great but we don’t really talk about labels.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Guys always run when you do.”

Do you want that sort of guy, you want to ask. Instead you shrug, “let them.”

She rolls her eyes, accustomed to your biting remarks around men.

The gig is electrifying as soon as you arrive. It gets you moving and your sedentary body remembers it has more flex in it than just your wrist. You’re alive and sweaty a few hours later, happy that you went.

“Hey,” Claire says when you drift back to her. “Dylan said the drummer’s inviting some friends to the place she’s staying at. Wanna come?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” You were high on just being out and around people, the loneliness had been kept at bay, and you didn’t want to ruin that by going home just yet.

The drummer’s place is the bottom floor of a quaint house near Portobello. Most people are already there by the time you trail in behind Claire and Dylan.

“Look there’s Harry!” Claire shouts, pointing to the figure that was become too familiar to you. He’s listening intently to the couple in front of him. Nice to know he could do that.

You flash her a thumbs up. But her and Dylan start walking towards them. Ugh!

You eye the room, thinking you could make a run-in with alcohol instead of Harry but he looks up at the approaching couple and catches your eye. He waves.

Whatever.

The four of you eventually find a quieter room, mostly because there was a hookah circle going on and everyone there was talking in hushed voices. A stark contrast to the volume in the den.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you here.” Harry says when the two of you find yourselves alone again.

“Why not?”

“You didn’t show the last couple times we all hung out. I thought you were tired of us.”

“Maybe I am.” You raise your brow. “Did you miss me?”

“Hey!” Dylan appears in front of you two again before he could answer. “Nish is here, I heard.”

“Nish?” Harry becomes all fidgety.

“Who’s Nish?” You have to ask.

“Someone we know,” Dylan says. You look for Claire and she’s making her way to you. But before she gets there another body steps towards your group.

“Hi! Harry look at you—and Dylan, is it just me or you look more hideous than last time?” The girl cuts in and you take a step back instinctively. The group felt overcrowded.

You watch the two boys hug the new girl, Nish you assume, in greeting.

Claire approaches the group with curiosity.

Introductions are made and Dylan offers to show Nish the drinks.

Then there were three.

“She’s pretty,” you comment. You know Harry agrees what with how much he resembled a ruler.

“Yeah,” he nods stiffly.

“So were you at the gig Harry?” Claire changes the subject. “It was amazing.”

“Yeah! I was there with Dylan and some friends. Surprised I didn’t see you two.”

“Were you dancing?” Claire teases.

“I was,” he blushes. He glances at you. You recall that first night when the two of you had a lot of fun just dancing. “Maybe that’s why I missed you guys.”

You give a small smile at the in-joke. He looks back to Claire.

You all talk about the gig, and then a little about someone similar Harry was working with.

Eventually Claire wonders aloud where Dylan had gotten to and leaves.

And then there were two.

“I get this feeling something’s going to happen,” you say.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

You shrug, you didn’t quite know. The whole night was moving so fast, especially after the gig. You just had a sense you missed something and it was bothering you.

“Have you got a drink yet?” Harry asks.

“No, maybe I should.”

“Me too. I’m done mine. I think I want another.”

As you walk down the hall to where it might logically be, you hear a shout. Your stomach drops. Was this it?

“I’m sorry wait!” Someone shouts over the noise. The overall noise dies down a bit quieter. “It’s not what it-“

“Fuck off! I’m done!”

“Shite,” you recognized Claire’s voice anywhere. You rush past Harry and towards the voices.

You find Dylan shirtless and holding it against his chest. Nish is a little ways behind him, hair a lot messier than when you last saw her. Buttons undone on her dress.

You notice the lipstick on Dylan’s neck. A colour Claire would never wear.

Everything snaps into place.

You rush to Claire and try to comfort her but she hurls more insults towards Dylan over your shoulder. You manage to get her out of his sight and she fights you too, she was seething with anger.

“He’s a dick!” She screams. “Why did I think he was going to be any different oh my god! I shouldn’t have let him go alone with her, what was I thinking? Yn! Why didn’t you stop me!”

You knew it was all rhetorical. Claire rarely took romantic advice from you.

“He tried to say we weren’t even a couple I-“ her voice catches and then comes the tears. You pull her in, familiar with the routine. Next would be feeling sorry for herself, then the anger again, then telling you she needed to be alone. Then a few hours would pass before she crawled back to needing comfort again.

And it happens just so.

“I don’t need a mother right now!” Claire says as you convince her to stay with you. To head home. “I just need to clear my head! I’m sorry okay I just want to be alone!”

And you let her go.

And now you had to kill time.

You find a beer and down it. Someone nearby asks you what the drama was about and you strike up a conversation that ends in them trying to kiss you. Ew.

You wander until you find Harry again. He’s surprised you’re still here. Asks where Claire was but as you respond one of the girls from the band recognizes Harry—you’re pretty sure her name is Kate. Soon enough you’re sidelined while they talk about something you knew nothing about.

Well fuck him too, you think miserably.

You grab one of the few remaining cans and head to the back of the house. Past open doors and closed doors. The closed door intrigues you at the end of the hall.

The doorknob is stuck so you wiggle it. Probably locked.

You were tired. God, you were tired of it all.

In a moment of anger you bang your shoulder against the door and magically it opens.

It wasn’t locked, just stuck due to age.

Same, you think.

Inside is the smallest room you’ve ever seen. The size of 1.5 closets. There looks like a childs bed, the walls are covered in posters, and there’s a small set of drawers with a guitar resting on top. It’s cramped but cozy, something about it feels familiar.

You step inside and close the door.

Down goes another beer.

You hope the person who owned the room didn’t mind you crashing it. You lay in bed and let out a big sigh. And then another. It felt good. Cleansing.

You listen to the noises outside, people laughing and talking. You think about Claire. About yourself. All of your several issues combined. The dull ache of loneliness starts in your ribcage and spreads out.

The door handle rattles a few times but eventually you realize nobody’s angry enough to smash it open like you. Most people assumed it’s locked and leave.

You’re taken by surprise then the door does creak open a smidge.

Distant light travels through to paint a multi-coloured line across the floor and over the bed. You lift your fingers to touch it but it feels like everything else.

“Of course you’re in here; I wondered where you went to.” Harry reveals his face by opening the door wider, poking his head in. It looks like it’s floating and the image almost makes you laugh. Almost.

“Why?” You ask in your most disinterested voice.

He takes the question, despite it dripping with apathy, as an invitation. The door remains opened a crack, now just with Harry on the inside.

“Because you disappeared.”

“You started talking to Kate so I made my exit. Did she go home?”

“No.” He inches closer after closing the door. You have no idea how he knew exactly where you were and how to get in. With the door closed it’s not so dark that you can’t make out his figure. But he’s a shadow in the dark.

“Can you sit or something? It’s kind of creepy having you hover like that in the dark.”

“Sorry,” he laughs and again, he overextends the invitation and lays parallel to you. He’s close, with the bed being so small. Your ache spreads. “Kate’s dancing with another bloke.”

“Poor Harry.” You mock. “Every pretty lady wants to dance with someone else.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I have this special ability to read between the lines.”

“Well my specialty is reading between the sheets.”

The comment lands like a third person on the bed. It’s a withering creature a cross between a baby and a calf. He scoops it off with, “sorry. I really don’t know where that came from.”

You laugh. It was so silly for something so bold to come out of his mouth.

“It’s fine. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be that bold before. Usually I just watch you fumble around and finish up thoughts inside your head instead of out loud-“

“I do do that don’t I?”

“You said do do,” you giggle.

“Very mature.”

“Very manure.” Your giggles turn into a laugh, something’s cracked inside of you and it feels funnier than it probably is.

Harry nudges you with his elbow and it silences your laugh. It’s abrupt, and he notices. “Why’d you come in here anyway?” He asks. “I thought you’d be with Claire.”

“Were you looking for her? You could be with Claire now y’know,” you say. Some part of you knew you’re tipsy and you should shut up but in the darkness your cutting words feel blunted.

“What’s that mean?”

“Dylan the dick—that’s his new nickname just fyi. He fumbled the bag. She’s free for the taking now.”

“I feel like this violates some sort of girl-code. Shouldn’t you be warning me away?”

You scoff, “Harry don’t be coy. Everyone knows you tried to get together that first night we all met. You always look at her like a lost puppy.”

“I don’t.”

“Do so.”

“What’s it to you?“

You shrug. He’s close enough to feel it.

You were upset tonight. Angry. Angry at Dylan for being another a-hole. Angry at Claire for putting yet another man on a pedestal with all his potential he could never reach. They hadn’t labelled themselves for 3 months, what did she expect would happen?

Mostly you were upset at yourself. Because a part of you watched Claire put herself out there over and over, and you were upset that you couldn’t do the same. That your shallow bruises compares to Claire’s gashes had kept you locked up in your bedroom.

You admit it to yourself then: you kind of liked Harry. And you totally and absolutely hated it.

Because you watched him watch Claire, fumble his words with every woman you catch him with, push him away just so you don’t potentially get hurt. A part of you knows he wouldn’t like you like that. He treats you like you’re part of the furniture half the time. He’s given no indication of the sort. And you just weren’t the kind of girl to leave a confession like that hanging. You didn’t want a public unrequited crush.

It comes again. The wave of loneliness, the feeling that nobody ever has or ever will understand you. That you were an island with no dock, a house with no door. You were unknowable, and unforgettable.

“Why don’t I ever hear about your relationship exploits?” Harry suddenly asks. You forgot he was there and you startle. “Sorry were you falling asleep?”

“No.” You answer. “And because…because I’m not showy about that sort of thing. And it also doesn’t happen as often as you or Claire or Dylan the dick.”

“Wow the name’s really gonna stay.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have a boyfriend now?”

“Nope.”

“What’s your last actual relationship?”

“A long time ago.”

“Me too.” He sighs. “My last proper girlfriend was in my early 20s. She moved city. We broke up after that, long-distance is hard. I feel like every year I age, I get worse at talking to women.”

“I can confirm.”

“Well not you. You’re easy to talk to.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly.

“Not like that.” He backtracks, sitting up as if you could see his face. “No not like that. You’re…nice. To look at. I don’t mean that I don’t see you as a women—because you are. I see that I uhm-“

“I think you’ll have to take back your previous statement.”

His head falls back on his pillow and he laughs, it sounds like he’s choking on air a little.

“Jeez, what was that?” He asks once he pulls himself together.

“Beats me,” you say with a smirk.

“It gets pretty lonely though right.”

You let his statement sit in the dark. You don’t agree or disagree. Doing so felt like admitting something vulnerable.

“Or maybe that’s just me.” He says after a while. “Maybe you have a great life and don’t fall in love with every other person you meet.”

“Do you actually?” Your interest was piqued.

“I can’t help it. I’m a musician, I just notice something small about them and suddenly a song is being written about them in my head without even realizing. So I just fall in love with a lot of random people. And I uhm, I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to anyone!”

It was the dark. It was easier to be honest in it. No wonder churches kept their confessions in darkened corners.

You think about all the regular people you fall in love with every time you lift your camera to your face. How every person made you ache; there were whole worlds going on inside of them and you saw it all through the lens.

You wonder briefly if Harry ever wrote a song about you in his head but squash it. He barely took the time to look at you, definitely not long enough to notice you like you did him.

“Here’s my confession—same.” You try for the confession-in-the-dark thing. To make him feel better. “At least when I’m taking photos or making videos. Some people get camera shy but after talking to them they loosen up and getting to capture their whole essence in a picture or a video I just…makes me fall in love too. I like to imagine what everyone would be like in front of a camera. I dunno.”

“What a pair we make.” Harry reaches out and his hand brushes yours. You pull away, hating yourself while you do.

He clears his throat when you reject his bid to be closer, you feel his hand slide back to himself.

Harry didn’t know why sometimes it felt like you hated him and other times like you were friends. He just figured he didn’t understand women. On any spectrum.

“Y/n,” your name is loaded in the dark. You wait for him to continue but the silence stretches out.

“What?” You finally ask.

You feel the bed shift and move under you. He was turning. You feel his gaze on you. You turn your head to look back and he’s inches away. Alarms blare in your head, abort abort! But even in the darkness his eyes find some light to reflect.

Harry’s thinking the same thing about you. Somehow it’s dark but when you turn your head to look at him, your eyes twinkle with what little moonlight streams in from the window. Or maybe that was the streetlights. Either way, Harry wonders why it felt like this was the first time he’s ever seen you. How ironic that it’s in the dark too.

It happens without realizing, his mind starts to string together something about the girl laying in his bed shrouded in darkness, with light in her eyes. A girl with secrets-

The bed vibrates.

“Oh,” you turn away and take the intimate moment with you. You feel around and find your phone beside you. Claire’s face lights up the screen.

“Claire,” you sit up.

“I’m ready to go home,” Claire sniffles on the other end. “Where are you?”

“At the party. You’re still at the party right?”

“I’m just outside. I got some chips but I couldn’t find you so I finished them all.”

You laugh, “Lie. I know how you feel about sharing chips don’t worry.”

Harry watches you have this conversation. Your laugh finds its way right into his chest. He feels warm.

You look at him and hold your finger up, shimming off the foot of the bed.

“You bought two!?” You ask after Claire sniffles about how much she emotionally ate tonight.

“It’s your fault! I ate two because I couldn’t find you and they were getting cold.”

“Well I’m coming outside to save you now.”

You put the phone down and look back at Harry. He’s sat up in the bed and staring at you.

“I gotta go weirdo.”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Well…I dunno if we’ll see each other as much now that-“

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“So good luck? Until next time?” You laugh, but an awkwardness starts to creep in as Harry stays unresponsive and staring on the bed. “Uhm. Okay?? Bye…”

You leave Harry as he is. Did he get all weird because Claire was on the phone? Ugh. What a liar, you think. He was still just as obsessed with her.

You feel a little bad for goading him about it earlier but it doesn’t linger long. When you see Claire you gather her up in your arms and then the two of you set off arm-in-arm back to your small flat together.

***

“So what’s happening with Kate?” Dylan asks. Harry and him are sat at the pub a few weeks later, he’s already moved on from Claire to the girl on his arm. He didn’t know how his friend did it, if Harry had a girl like Claire he wouldn’t treat her like she was disposable.

But thinking of Claire didn’t have that same spark anymore. When he thought about it, she was beautiful and spirited, the kind of woman musicians like him write songs about. But there was someone else on his mind, the kind of woman someone could spend their whole career trying to compartmentalize into songs. Songs turning into albums. Only to find nothing beats her living spirit.

How could he be so dumb, he’d been beating himself up since that night in the dark. He’d had 3 months of being around her and he never actually looked at her. Always took her for granted. God, even that first night together had been the most fun Harry had had in ages. But he’d just turned her into a friend by proximity.

But weeks gone without her, knowing there was only pure chance of bumping into her, had made Harry a regretful heart.

“Hello? Did you scare her off?” Dylan asks.

“Nah. She’s not my type.” Harry responds.

“Harry I should set you up with one of my mates. She’d be perfect for you. She’s a teacher and…”

Harry listens to Dylan’s new girl describe a friend Harry couldn’t be arsed to go out with. All because he wanted something he couldn’t have anymore.

***

Harry runs into Claire at a pub a week later. His hopes soar as high as the sky when he thinks y/n might be here.

“Hi! Claire!” Harry awkwardly stops her as she walks past the bar where he sits. He was waiting for a few of his mates to watch the football match with. Dylan was luckily out of town today, otherwise this pub would have it’s roof blown off.

“Oh Harry hi,” she’s friendly. Harry didn’t think she’d be friendly towards him. She leans in for a hug. “How’ve you been?”

“Good! Ehm good yeah just making more music and stuff. You?”

“Better,” she rolls her eyes. “How’s Dylan the-“

“I’d rather not be in the middle. If that’s alright.” Harry says before he can think. He knew what his friend was, he didn’t want to talk about him.

“Fine.” She crosses her arms. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Watching the game?”

“Sorta. My family’s down and I know y/n hates the ruckus my brothers make watching the game at home so I’m sticking them here.”

“Oh y/n’s not here?” Harry feels his hope evaporating.

“No. What’s the deal with you and her anyway? Why didn’t you ever…?”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah!”

“She’s not interested in me,” Harry laughs. He was also blind but he doesn’t say that.

“I mean, maybe not crazily but if you asked she would have said yes. She didn’t hate you.”

“Is that the standard now?” Harry jokes.

“It is with her,” she smiles with a look in her eye like there was more there. But of course, Harry doesn’t push.

“I…I dunno. I never thought she would be interested. It never occurred to me.”

“You’re such a guy,” she scolds. “You have anyone now or you’re still regularly putting your foot in your mouth?”

Harry flushes. “I don’t. And I don’t put my foot in my mouth.”

She rolls her eyes but the smile stays on her face. “Anyway, I’m grabbing the beers. I’ll talk to you later?”

Harry nods, suddenly unable to just ask for y/n’s number. Anything.

But as she walks away he realizes he’d had a whole conversation with Claire without overthinking or being a fumbling idiot once.

He thinks back, to the last couple weeks. He realizes it’s been a while since he’s done it.

Was I finally turning a corner, Harry thinks.

***

You had a gig today filming at a studio. Some indie duo but they were gaining popularity on Tiktok and wanted some bts footage of working in the studio for an upcoming music video. You weren’t going to ask questions. It paid decent money so you said yes.

You pull into the parking lot, grateful that Claire had a car you could borrow. It helped lugging around your equipment for videoshoots. Today it was just you as your PA was out sick. It wasn’t supposed to be a lot of angles so you figured it would be okay.

You consider the day a win by the time you pack up. The group were much younger than you but very outgoing and it made for a lot of funny and sweet footage. They also had amazing voices, you told them they were going on your playlists once you got home.

Your right hand goes weightless as you walk with your bags down the hall. You turn just as the helper speaks up.

“Looked like you could use a hand.”

“Harry I…what a surprise hi!” Your mood brightens at the sight of him, despite everything.

“Hi,” he shifts the bag in his hand to return your hug. His body is solid and warm. It made no sense but you missed something about him. “How was your shoot?”

“Really good! I was shooting a…wait how did you know?”

“I saw you in there?”

“I didn’t see you.”

“Yeah I um-“

“You had nothing to do with this right?”

“And if I did?” He meets your eye and you feel out of breath with whatever speaks through them. What was up with that?

“Uhmm I owe you a thank you!?!”

Harry offers a small smile, “I was looking at your work a couple weeks back. You’re really good. I just threw your name out to a few managers if they were looking for someone…”

Harry looks different with this new information. Or maybe this was a Harry that was actually paying attention to you, it was both intimidating and touching.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks.

“No! No, thank you I…that’s…I’m grateful. Thank you. Can I get you a drink to say thanks?”

“Okay cuz your face was all scrunched up. I thought you were pissed.” He laughs. “And I have some things to finish up-“

“Oh right, you’re probably busy-“

“No no I would love to. Get drinks. With you.” Harry grows more awkward as the air between you crackles with something electric. Maybe, he thought, this is what happens when two people are on the same wavelength.

“Ok. Well when do you finish?”

Harry doesn’t quite hear your question. His head feels flooded with sand and he can’t stop looking at you, right in front of him finally. Why did he never notice your eyes and the way they take him in, your sweetness, the easygoing tilt of your head, or how how disarming your smile was. He chalked it up to being an idiot.

“Wait what-“ he laughs, feeling the blood flush his face. He was doing that thing again, where his brain stopped thinking in the attention of a pretty girl. “What’d you ask?”

“When you finish?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy yourself. You can feel the element of nervousness from him and it made this casual moment feel more intense.

“Maybe half hour?” Harry scratches his nose. “Are you heading somewhere now? You can hang out with me and we can go together?”

You thought about getting to see him work, it sounded promising. “Sure!”

Harry wipes his palm on his jeans and walks ahead, leading you down the hall and to the right. He opens it to a recording studio, gesturing to the chairs and taking the seat behind all the buttons. You set your things down and stand by the panel, curious what each of the controls did.

Harry glances up at you and you shoot a smile, about to ask if it was okay you watch, but he goes back to work just as quickly.

He was working on something that sounded like a pop song. You try to make out all the layers on the software he was using, it kind of looked the same when you edited a video. But there’s too many layers to distinguish.

Eventually you sit back down, admiring Harry in his element. Your mind drifts, and you wonder if everything that happened out in the hallway was a figment of your imagination or Harry was being weird with you. Because the thing about Harry being weird meant he was in his head about one thing.

You wonder, like you did every so often, what could have happened that night in the dark the last time you saw him if Claire hadn’t called. Harry had looked at you like he had just met you—with a good curiosity.

But then again, this was the same Harry that probably looked at Claire with the same look.

“Done.” Harry turns in his swivel chair with a grin an hour or so later.

“Great!” You shake off your thoughts and set your laptop down.

“Did you want to leave your things here?”

“I have a car I can put them in?”

“The place I was gonna take you to isn’t that far from here.”

So you agree, and leave your equipment in the studio. The two of you walk out, talking about what he was working on. He asks you about your shoot today and the conversation carries you to the pub he had picked out.

Conversation starts to fizzle out as you tuck into your booth seat.

“What you guys getting today?” The waitress appears almost instantly, it startles you.

You look at the menu and to her. She’s got a beautiful face, round cheeks framed by micro bangs and night-black eyebrows that made her look permanently unimpressed. And yet her rosy cheeks and button nose were a friendly addition to the severity of the rest of her.

You glance at Harry, ready for him to be a bumbling idiot around her. He glances at you from the menu when he senses you looking over and for a second you feel the loneliness creep in. Despite the warm smile he sends your way.

“Can we get a few more minutes?” Harry asks her. She pockets her things without another word and walks away.

“What’s good here?” You ask to fill the silence.

The two of you go over the menu and by the time the waitress returns you’re ready. You watch Harry ask her questions and place the order, confident and direct. His eyes slide to yours every so often and each time they do you feel your resolve slip a little more.

“What’s changed then Harry?” You tease when she leaves. You tease, but you seriously want to know. “I thought you’d be a puddle of words around a woman that gorgeous.”

“Her?” Harry glances back. “I guess. I’m not such a mess.”

“Oh you so are.” You laugh. “You’re all ums and uhs.”

“I’m…fine. I’m not so bad anymore!”

“Yeah so? What happened?”

He looks at you with such a serious look that your smile dies down.

“Drinks,” the waitress places them down on the table, saving the both of you from whatever would have come next.

“Thanks,” you tell her and pull the distraction towards you.

“Let’s just say,” Harry says after she leaves. “I gained some perspective.”

You raise an eyebrow, not wanting to push it any more. “Okay.”

For the first time in a while, your nerves overtake the anxious discomfort you usually lived with. Something was definitely happening here—you weren’t hallucinating. But you weren’t sure where it was going, and if you wanted it.

Of course you want it, stop convincing yourself otherwise, you tell yourself.

Why did vulnerability feel like facing mount everest in just your pjs.

“I bumped into Claire a few weeks ago, she seems to be doing well.” Harry says and you can’t help but overanalyze for a heartbeat. He’d brought Claire up after all.

“Oh she didn’t mention,” you reply.

“She was with her family? Said you kicked them out of the flat-“

“Oh!” You laugh. “Yeah her brothers get stupidly rowdy when the football’s on. This one time I had an interview early the next morning and—this was before I knew how loud they could get. And I was up. Until 2am nearly to tears! Finally I snapped, they call it the y/n-geddon. Then of course I felt so bad I couldn’t sleep for another two hours. Now we just draw boundaries.”

Harry laughs at your story. “Sounds scary. Now it makes sense though.”

“Better for everyone,” you laugh. “But yeah. Claire’s been good, it was nice her family was down she’s always more herself when they do.”

Your food arrives and you put the conversation on pause as you tuck in.

“How about you?” Harry asks. “Your family?”

You tell him about your family and the conversation moves on to moving out, living in the city. It branches out naturally like a tree, and both of you relax into each other’s company.

It was really nice, you admit to yourself. It felt like talking to an actual person rather than the shell of someone. Which is how it felt like talking to Harry in the past. The only soggy bread was the butty dipped in your soup.

You pay, as you insist it was to thank him for the help. It’s cooler out when you had back to the studio for your things and there’s more people out; those free of their office jobs and roaming for a drink to relax into.

The studio’s empty and you head towards your bags, asking Harry if he was heading home too.

“Yeah, I’ve been here since 6 so I think I’m ready to go home.”

“Shite that’s early!”

“Deadlines!” He sighs. “What can ya do.”

“Can I give you a ride somewhere at least?”

“If you’re going in the direction of the station I’ll hop in.”

“Yeah sure!”

“Good thing you have a car with all that equipment.”

“Yeah my thoughts this morning. But that reminds me of all the footage I have to edit.” You say. “Thanks to you.”

“Anytime. Anytime y/n. I’m gonna keep whispering your name around. You’ll be fully booked soon just watch and see.”

“You don’t have to,” you set your things back on the ground. It didn’t seem like Harry was in a hurry to get out.

“I want to,” he replies seriously. The room feels smaller than it did seconds ago, or maybe the awareness of Harry’s proximity tightened the space between you.

“Thanks,” you try to meet his eye as you say it but it’s hard to. His gaze strips away any doubt you had; his feelings are written all over his face. All you could think was: Holy Fuck what is this

“It’s my pleasure,” he says which just sucks any remaining oxygen out of the room.

When you’re on autopilot you don’t even think, you just go through the motions. That’s what it felt like, one second you’re standing opposite Harry. The next you’re standing right in front of him and his lips are on yours.

Maybe you just imagined this scene so much it became repetitive and now this—kissing him, felt so familiar.

He’s nothing like the timid and awkward Harry you watch at parties and pubs. He’s sure of himself, kissing you in the exact way to soothe your past aches; your loneliness is washed away like ocean tides over words etched in the sand. You get lost in it. In him.

You don’t know when his hands slide around your waist and pull you in. His lips are soft and gentle. Your mind blanks as the sensation of being held, of his touch, spreads. You don’t realize you stop kissing back, just for a second, until he pulls away.

Harry takes a deep breath, face pink and brows furrowed. This felt right, but was he reading it wrong? He did that often.

You take a small step back, needing the space to process. It felt right, better than your imagination, and you couldn’t deny the pull you felt to him.

“So um,” you bite your lip. “You still want that ride?”

“Where is it going?” He asks, the tightness in his chest easing a little when you look up at him, head tilted and a nervous expression on. He wasn’t reading it wrong. Both of you were just a little overwhelmed.

“Anywhere you want it to. I was thinking it could go home.”

“Mmm,” he nods. “Home sounds nice.”

With a smile exchanged, he lifts most of your equipment to the car. You have to take a beat outside the car just to force your brain to go from scrambled to whole so you can manage the drive home. It took every ounce of concentration.

Claire’s not home when you get there and you’re so grateful for that. Firstly, you just wanted to get him back into your bedroom. Secondly, you wanted this just between the two of you. At least for today.

You drop her a text in case, like you two usually did. You tell her you had company over.

The rest of the night can be spent uninterrupted.

You set everything in the living room and take Harry back to your bedroom.

He looks around curiously, taking in the photos on the walls and the things on the dresser.

You watch him, feeling a little exposed. he was looking. Seeing. You. It was different. Good different.

Harry looks at you with a question and you answer by closing the space between you; he reaches his arms out and your body is engulfed by him. Your lips meet, this time less hesitant.

It’s not long before Harry pulls you towards the bed, falling backwards with you on top of him. You straddle his hips and kiss him like a teenager. You feel his fingers brush your waist and tug at the bottom of your top.

It’s off in an instant and you try to hide the smile as Harry takes in the sight of you, his eyes filling with awe. He was such a dork. But it made you feel empowered, and seen. You reach for his shirt and he lets you take it off.

When you lean forward again, chests pressed together, his hands find the small of your back. They trace circles there, sending shivers up your spine.

You take the cue and kiss him slowly, rocking your hips against him. He gasps, his hands tightening as you trail kisses along his neck.

The sounds he makes go straight to your core and you feel the familiar flutter that tells you to hurry. You move back, undoing his jeans and helping him slide them off.

“You’re alright with this?” He breathes into your skin.

Your heart thuds in your ribcage, but mostly from anticipation; you never realized how long you wanted this for. Wanted him.

“Of course,” you pause and so does he. “Took you long enough.”

With a wry smile he covers your mouth with his and soon the two of you find a rhythm that no song could compete with. You find company in someone you’d sworn could never be yours.

It’s bliss.

***

The sun filters through the window and casts a warm light across your floor.

You were in your own bed, and in the middle of the mattress with a leg thrown over the edge was Harry, sound asleep. Tbe weight of his arm over your waist and the steady sound of his breathing is the proof you needed that this was real. He was real.

The two of you hadn't bothered to get dressed last night. It was an unspoken understanding that this wasn’t the end.

You turn onto your side; it was a nice view.

It was a nice morning, actually. The first morning in a while where you not only woke to a warm body, but one that felt like it belonged. That wasn’t going anywhere

Claire must be somewhere in the flat, you realize. You hadn’t heard her come in.

Harry starts to stir as light fills the room. His eyes squint open and his left hand comes up to cover his face.

You reach over to run your fingers through his hair and he sighs, his face relaxing into a smile.

Harry turns to you, eyes finally open and alert and your heart thumps happily.

There was no need for words.

You snuggle closer and he wraps an arm around you. You bury your face into his neck and breathe in his scent.

He laughs quietly, his chest rumbling under you. You kiss him and he responds in kind.

This time there was no rush.

The morning was warm, and so were you.

5 months later

You get there early, you wanted a moment before the guests to take in your accomplishment. Sure you’d been published on websites and magazines before. Your dream has always been to live forever on an album cover. And you’d finally done it.

The venue was a sparkly room thanks to all the disco balls. They contrasted against the rich fabric and wood beams all over the space.

You take a ton of pictures to send to your friends and family.

You mingle with guests as they come in, trying not to give in too much to the hollowed out feeling that came with a string of strangers and the tiresome small talk. You smile and introduce yourself, you know this was how connections were made. In rooms like this.

You feel him come in as you give in to a second drink. You’re at the bar, and your eyes lift up to the entrance and there’s Harry. Your Harry.

Harry’s eyes skim the crowd looking for someone. His someone. No other person mattered until he could locate her. That’s how it felt these days. A million faces could blur by but hers was the one he looked for every time.

He sees her. Looking at him. Of course she’s already spotted him.

You watch as his face splits into an eager smile, his hand raising above his head.

Harry was like fresh lemonade poured into a cup of ice, all of the tiring talks and fake smiles from before vanish as you drink him in. He’s looking at you, only you. You’re looking at only him.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says as a greeting.

“That’s alright,” you peck his lips. “I was just taking a breather.”

“Is the band here? My phone died on the ride so I couldn’t check in.”

“I thought I saw one of them somewhere in that crowd,” you point to the right.

Harry had gotten you this gig. It was the third thing he’d helped you get and slowly you were able to take on less and less wedding and marketing jobs and focus on the music industry. It filled your days and nights with passion-fuelled hard work. You loved every second of it.

And when you weren’t working, you spent time with Harry. It had been 5 months since you started dating. Neither of you questioned what your labels were. You just knew there was nothing else you two could be.

You teased him a lot, how he took the long way to finally recognize the truth. But he made up for it all the time. He made sure you knew how you were the only one for him.

“That is one perfect album,” Harry slips his hand around your waist. Your photograph is blown out to a tapestry and hangs in the middle of the space. It was a sophomore album for the band and with their debut a hit, this tapestry was going to be signed and auctioned. Eventually it would sit somewhere, your photograph, coveted as a piece of music history.

“This is unreal,” you squeeze Harry. “How amazing is it that we both got to work on this album in our own specialties?”

“A perfect match I’d say,” he kisses you.

“What a pair we make,” you grin.

“I see many more shared projects in our future,” Harry promises.

“I’d like that.” It was one of the things you loved about being with Harry, your creativity and how both of you shared a similar industry at times. It brought you closer together, swapping ideas and stories.

“One day I’m going to need album art for the EP I release.”

“Ooh yes,” you clutch his arm. Lately Harry has been spending some times with his head in a brand new notebook, he said he was working on his personal project. “I can’t wait for that day. I have so many ideas of styling you.”

You had a particular image that sat on your phone from the very first night you met. One where he’s dancing alone in a crowd, red lighting casting half his face in shadow and the other in a vibrant scarlet. His eyes are closed and his brows scrunched as his body flows with movement, even in a still picture. You adored it. It was one of the best photos you ever took.

“Me?” Harry looks down at you. He knew whatever songs he pulled together for an EP would be about you. His rush to write recently were from all the time spent being in your presence. It was intense, it had only been 5 months of dating, but somehow he thought you might understand. “I was thinking the cover art could be the subject of my songs.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head.

“Yeah,” he smiles. “How do you feel about self-portraits?”

Your face grows slack as it dawns on you. He had a whole EP in mind, about you.

“Well?” He twitches his hand on your waist, tugging you a little closer.

“Self-portraits sound a bit lonely,” you will your eyes not to tear up.

“But you won’t be,” Harry tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You have me. You won’t ever be lonely.”

“I know,” you feel the emotion catch in your throat as you gaze up into his photographic eyes. You can’t explain it but your body feels grounded—more grounded than it’s ever been. Here in his arms you felt together, like you were a book finally finding a shelf to lean on.

The two of you stand side by side and look at the people this collaborative masterpiece brought together. The room fills with the energy of the music. It was special.

"I love you," Harry reminds you.

"I love you too," you respond.

Your life hadn’t change all at once, not really. The biggest thing that changed was Harry. His presence, his attitude, his attention—it shifted. He wasn’t just a guy on the periphery, in proximity. He had you in his sights and he in yours.

You noticed small new things about him, and you wondered if everyone did. He was more confident and present, rooted to and with you. Both of you had bloomed, like caterpillars into butterflies. A pair of butterflies—you should tell him that.

Sometimes you thought you were just born lonely, it’s how it always was and has been. With Harry, you felt less lonely. You felt like things could really change for you.

You extend your hand to him and motion to the dance floor. It was a tradition now—no dance floor would go unmarked by the two of you.

He takes your hand and you lead him there. And with you in his arms he feels set free, like always.

Out of the cocoon and into the embrace of belonging, two butterflies dance in plain sight.

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #musician!harry #harry stylesxreader #harry styles one shot #one shot #soft spot for this fic #i loved writing how they fell separately

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be-with-me-so-happily · 1 year ago

Text

Not Another Time

ONE SHOT

[ or Part 2 of Could We Not ]

<< Request >> "I loved could we not. Can you maybe also write when that guy came running on stage and he maybe pushes reader out of the way or something like that😅" - anon

<< Request >> "Omg PLEASE could you do more parts or ‘could we not’ literally loved it!!!" - @loza--may

Summary: Harry is used to things getting crazy on tour. What he wasn't ready for is how much he misses YN during the Latin American leg of his tour. But at the Rio de Janeiro show, he needs to expect the unexpected.

AN: Highly requested part 2, which I wasn't expecting but am so honored to have written for you all. Sorry it took me FOREVER to write and post this. I hope you like it.

Warnings: Some explicit language, attempted attack by a fan, mild head injury

Not much can shake Harry when it comes to wild moments on tour, throughout his entire career. There once was a fan hiding in a trash bin, dildos thrown at his face, wedding proposals, canceled shows due to illness, and there was even a time when a girl tried to dolphin her way onto the stage, back in the early days. But he still loves it, loves it all. It's titled 'Love On Tour' for a reason.

Now, he's in Latin America. Any and every performance here has such a special place in Harry's heart. He has a 'brasil' tattoo on his thigh, after all. However, the time is a little different.

The horn players have not accompanied the band for these shows. No trombone, no saxophone, and no trumpets. Which means no YN. No sweet but subtle winks onstage, no flirtatious comments backstage, no seeing her bright smile, no hearing her pure laugh, or getting lost in her beautifully deep eyes. No gazing at her lips and wishing so desperately that he could kiss them again.

Unfortunately, their first kiss was their last. Harry hopes that's not forever. But after it happened, he got sick, putting a crimp in his plans to further things with her. When he recovered, their time was taken up by those last few shows in Los Angeles. Then he was off to Mexico. And she wasn't.

Needless to say, her absence is very apparent. To him, at least.

So, like he has done every show since Guadalajara, Harry checks his phone after getting dressed. He wants to make sure he hasn't missed any 'good luck' texts before going on stage, but a disappointed sigh releases as he sees that he has no new messages.

"Alright, H. Ten minutes." The stage assistant announces.

Harry nods, handing his phone over and grabbing his mic pack from the sound tech. The band gathers around for a little pre-show ritual and Harry feels the tug on his heart, wishing there were four more members in their huddle, so there could be one particular member tucked under his arm. But he commits to staying focused on his performance, to put on a good show for the people of Rio de Janeiro.

Despite a few fans fainting in Bogota, things have been relatively smooth so far, and this night should be no different. All he has to do is get out there and get through it.

"Do you know the words to this one Rio?" Harry shouts to the crowd as the band begins to play 'What Makes You Beautiful'.

Despite his efforts, this song always makes him miss YN. The trumpets in the backing track just don't do this song, or any of the songs, as much justice as when she is there, with him, playing live. The other three too, of course, but he has always been able to distinguish her trumpet from the other horns, and he would always dance near her while this song played. Without that, without her, it's just not nearly as exciting.

As he begins the second verse, Harry moves to his left, twisting around to tug on the mic cord that feels as if it's caught on something.

"I don't know why you're being shy…" Harry's eyes shoot up and then around as a security guard strides past him, settling his gaze on a figure charging towards him. "And you turn away when I look into your eyes."

It's like a flash. He is walking, then swiveling around, moving over, and then backing up into another security guard. All within a matter of a few seconds. It takes a moment for him to fully understand what's happening, as multiple crew members grab hold of the man.

Watching him be dragged offstage, Harry moves back to the center mic, still in shock of what happened but still wanting to continue the song.

He glances over to each side of the stage, shaking the disbelief away when he meets the gazes of a few of the band and crew. Each one reciprocates the sentiment, yet seem to keep their caution, as a few of them motion over that way. Harry turns back, just for a quick check, and notices a small group of people gathered in a huddle. He turns back to the crowd. He trusts his team, he knows they are handling whatever it is, and he won't let this one moment take away from the show. It can't stop him. It won't stop him.

As the song ends he takes a quick moment to gather himself and take a breath before turning to the crowd.

"Well that was different…" He states sarcastically, though truthfully. It's probably one of the more accurate ways to describe that moment, especially if he's trying to keep this a 'family show', as he always claims. "Is everybody okay?"

The fans laugh and cheer, seeming to answer his question with the same disbelief he feels.

"I'm shooketh… I'm shooketh!" He exclaims, receiving another laugh from the audience. At least they are recovering and feeling good. Now he can recover and feel good too. He twists around, looking from one side of the stage to another, meeting the gaze of a few security guards and crew as he does so. "Thank you, thank you. You saved me!"

That's when he catches it. The glimpse of a familiar face, of YN's face, off to the side of the stage, among the small group he had noticed earlier. However, her expression is not one he's seen before. Well, only once before. It's pained, again, but this time it looks worse, and Harry feels his stomach drop.

He transitions into a quick acknowledgement of his band members, his mind wanting to focus solely on the one who wasn't even scheduled to be there, but as soon as he's done, he takes advantage of what's next.

He uses the band mic to let everyone know he'll be off to the side while the extended introduction to 'Late Night Talking' plays on the screens, and once the lights dim he swiftly makes his way over.

"YN. What's-... what are you-… umm, hi." He fumbles, his thoughts racing with so many questions. He didn't even know she'd be in Brazil, or at the show, let alone on the side of the stage, and now she's standing there in front of him, with an ice pack on her head.

"Hi." She chuckles minimally, hurting Harry's heart with the lack of usual enthusiasm and joy. "I came… to surprise… everyone."

"Well, you did that!" He exclaims, managing as best of a smile as he can. His gaze travels from her eyes, to her lips, and then up to her head, and his expression immediately drops. "What happened?"

"It's nothing." She attempts to play off, much like the last time he saw her injured. "Don't worry about me."

"That's impossible." He retorts. "What happened?"

"The guy… the fan, just… knocked me down… on his way out with security." She shakes her head, scoffing, though Harry feels as if she's directing it towards herself more than anyone else.

"Okay. Umm… go backstage and get checked out." He states, his ears picking up on the music, knowing he'll have to return to center stage in just a few moments. "I'll… I'll see you after, yeah?"

"Harry, I'm fi-"

"Just do it!" He exclaims, immediately wincing as he watches her eyes widen with surprise. He's never talked to her like that, never even raised his voice even remotely in her direction without it being out of excitement or flirtation. But he cares about her, and now he will only worry more seeing her there in pain. "Please."

She nods, opening her mouth with a reply, but seemingly deciding against it.

Harry gives YN a quick kiss on the cheek and hustles back over to his mic stand, shooting his gaze to the side for one last glance of her as she walks out of sight.

It's not as if he's going to stop worrying, but maybe it'll be a little less than it would if she were still there watching him. He knows she'll be taken care of, and he'll see her when it's over. Right now, he needs to get through the rest of it, preferably without any other issues.

"... on a Summer evening, what is happening? An-... you're the end of… we are going to stop the song."

Technical difficulties. During 'Watermelon Sugar'. Of course. As if Harry's mind wasn't already somewhere else. He knows it's an easy fix, hopefully, but it's just another thing added to the existing thoughts already causing chaos in his mind. He's a professional, sure, but everyone has a limit and he just doesn't want to find out where his is.

Get through it. That's all he has to do, just get through the next song, the show, and the night. Just get through it and then get to YN.

'Love of My Life' is next. Thankfully it's a slow song, so he can calm his mind and body down, even just a little, before the break in the set. And at that point he can finally regroup.

It works, for a moment, until he notices that some fans need help, and despite making his team aware, they are still there struggling. He lifts the mic stand up and turns his head back, motioning with his finger, with some intensity, for someone to help them and get them out of there.

He feels himself spiraling, just a bit, and has never looked forward to the end of a song as much as he is tonight.

As Harry waves to the crowd, with a mouthful of water, he impatiently waits to spit it up in the air, thank the crowd, and get the hell off stage.

The crowd continues to applaud and cheer as he says goodbye, turning around and using the last bit of energy he has to run backstage.

He stops among the hustle of the crew, realizing he isn't sure where to go, or where to even start looking for YN. The most likely place is his dressing room, so he swiftly shuffles his way there, doing his best to acknowledge anyone he passes by that congratulates or compliments him. He feels bad, he usually takes time with each person, always grateful for their work and feedback. But not tonight. He only has one person on his mind. One person he wants and needs to see.

He swings the door open and takes a quick scan of the room, finding no one. Not anyone. Not her. He runs his fingers through his now very sweaty hair, inhaling deeper to catch his breath and figure out where to go next, where to look next.

He takes a seat on the couch, elbows resting in his knees, and glances over to the table in front of him to find a note that wasn't there before. He grabs it immediately, blinking the salty moisture out of his eyes as he looks over the words.

"Hey H.

Went back to the hotel.

Hope you had a great

rest of your show!

- YN"

"Fuck." He mumbles, suddenly remembering how he yelled for her to go backstage. Well, he could argue that he only raised his voice, but in that moment, that hectic moment, it didn't matter. He shouldn't have done it at all. And truth be told, it would've made the entire night better if she had stayed. But he yelled, and sent her away. Now all he wants to do is go to her and make it better, make her feel better.

After the fastest shower and outfit change of his life, Harry found Jeff and discovered that his manager helped YN get there, so he knew which hotel room was hers. At least Harry didn't have to spend countless hours searching all of Rio for her.

He stands in front of her door and takes a deep breath, nerves on edge as he knocks, and fully prepared for her to open the door and ask him to leave. Immediately.

"Harry?" He hears, causing his gaze to lift from his shoes to the woman in front of him. She's dressed in cotton shorts and a t-shirt, looking comfortable and yet more beautiful than he's ever seen her. He just wishes she wasn't also holding another ice pack to her temple.

"YN." He breathes out, unable to form any other words as he looks her over, hopefully more subtle than he fears it might be. "Are y-... how… I mean, umm…"

The sweetest sound grabs his attention and he watches her step aside as she lets out a small giggle.

"Come in."

He nods, and without hesitation steps into the room. The sound of the door closing causes him to swivel on his heel, and his eyes stay fixed on YN as she motions him over to the edge of the bed.

"What's up?" She asks, casually, removing the ice pack and placing it down beside her.

"I, umm, wanted to check on you." He answers, not convinced his volume was even loud enough to be heard. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore." She swiftly responds, and he cringes at the lack of emotion with it. Even though it was only one word, he feels as if he knows her well enough to know that's not her normal tone. "Hit my head when the guy knocked me to the ground."

"I'm so sorry, YN. I didn't know you were there tonight, or I would've…" He pauses, looking down to where his nails pick at each other. "I don't know… I could've done… something…"

"No, Harry, I'm sorry." She states, causing his gaze to shoot back up to find hers filled with, what looks like, embarrassment. And maybe even regret. But definitely with insecurity, which is not something he's used to seeing from her. "I shouldn't have come."

"Oh." His heart drops.

"I feel like I may have been in the way. Well, I was for that fan…" She states, the smallest smile lifting the corners of her mouth, despite the roll of her eyes and shake of her head. "But I definitely didn't want to be in yours."

"No! I'm glad you're here!" He replies, without hesitation, and watches as her eyes widen, now allowing him to see the depths at which they usually take him to.

"You are? Because it seemed like…" YN clears her throat, confirming for Harry that she is in fact nervous. Not confident. And it seems to be his fault. "It seemed like you were upset when you saw me."

"No! Not at all." Harry replies, his frustration with himself appearing in the crease between his brows. "I wasn't upset seeing you there, I was upset seeing you hurt. Really upset. I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, H. I'm alright."

"I know. I know that. I just… I was worried for the rest of the show, wondering if you were okay. It was torturing me."

"I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm really sorry." She lets out a sigh, and it almost breaks Harry's heart as she drops her gaze and squeezes her eyes shut.

"No, don't-... that's not-..." Harry lets out a low growl in frustration. He doesn't know how to express what he means, and if he even should. But at this point, he doesn't know if he can hold back. "It was torture because all I wanted to do was fix it for you. Like last time."

"Like last time?"

He hears her breath hitch, and his heart races more, feeling each beat thump against his chest. They had shared a kiss the last time she got hurt. They spent the rest of the night together, hanging out and talking until the sun was almost rising. But then nothing. Was that it? Was it just a one time thing, just a momentary thing after an adrenaline-raising show? No, it wasn't. Not for him. And she needs to know.

"I… like you, YN. A lot. And that night… meant a lot to me." He fully turns his body towards her, gaining a fraction of the confidence for himself that he has always seen in her, and since she is now there in Brazil, he won't waste another minute without sharing his heart. "We didn't really get to talk much afterwards, or see each other even, but I just need you to know that… I want to be with you. If… if that's something you want too."

Harry watches as she pulls her lips inward, hoping that the expression he sees underneath is pleasant. Pleasant for him. But he suddenly realizes that if she doesn't feel the same, he doesn't want to lose her. For the band.

"If it's not, no problem. We can move past it." He swallows the lump caught grasping against the walls of his throat. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, and don't want you to leave the band over it. You're very talented, YN."

"Thank you." She replies, looking over at him with those gorgeous eyes and a tenderness she's never given him before, and despite him offering to move past his feelings, for the sake of his heart, he desperately hopes that she feels the same. He wants her to only look at him like that from now on. "And that night meant a lot to me as well."

"Yeah?" He responds, shifting in his spot at the edge of her bed, with all the giddiness of a lovesick school boy.

"I want to be with you too, H."

His palms fly up to her cheeks, receiving a warmth from them that flows right to his chest. His gaze flickers to her lips, yearning for them, desperate for them.

"Are you going to kiss me or not?" She chuckles, and his heart swells from the self-assurance that she always expresses, that he has fallen for.

He grins, wider than he ever has, but only for a moment. He's not going to wait any longer. He leans closer, and her eyes close, pursing her soft lips to meet his in a gentle kiss.

Her hands run up his arms, applying pressure as they move over his shoulders, and connect behind his neck. She pulls him closer, and his tongue teases her lips before she parts them, each sighing as they deepen the kiss.

His chest tightens, this time out of need for air, so he pulls back, only leaving enough room for a breath, and smiles as he hears her release her own, happy exhale.

"How are you feeling now?" He asks, resting his forehead against hers as one hand strokes over the hair covering her temple.

"Much better. I do need to rest now, though." She whispers. "But, you know, I may have a concussion…"

"That's not funny."

"No, it's not. It's very serious." She pulls away more, hands still behind his head, and his mind fills with worry. Worry and confusion, as he watches her smile reappear through her solemn expression. "I should probably have someone stay with me tonight. To make sure I'm alright, of course."

"Of course." He smirks, feeling his heart burst, following as she scoots up the bed and rests her head on the pillow.

He does the same, laying down to face her, and sees her eyes begin to flutter shut. It's been an exhausting day for the both of them.

"Come here." He whispers, opening his arms for her to settle in, wrapping them around her body, and pulling her to his chest. "You doing okay?"

"More than okay." She utters, drowsiness now coating her words. "Thank you, for fixing things."

"Anytime." He replies, placing a tender kiss on top of her head. "I'll fix things for you anytime."

A silence falls between them, and as he hears her soft breaths leave her even softer lips, Harry hums in contentment, allowing his own body to succumb to the rest it now needs too. He shuts his eyes, and one last thought appears as he feels himself happily drift off to sleep.

Despite all the chaos, this night didn't turn out so bad after all. With YN, it's been the best one yet.

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styleslistic · 1 year ago

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How it Turned Out - Part 11: Harry and Y/N try to write a song

Masterlist

Y/N’s doorbell rang, which could only mean one thing, Harry was here.

This was the first time either of them had been to the other’s house so it was kind of a massive deal. A whole day and night together with no one to interrupt them and no prying eyes to hide from. It was an absolute treat.

Of course, officially he was there to write a song with her. That was how they’d managed to get the time off during such a busy period for them both.

Y/N opened her front door to find him stood there in a soft looking jumper with a guitar case slung over his back.

“Morning,” he grinned. Y/N stepped aside to let him in and closed the door behind him. She pulled him in for a short, sweet kiss.

She considered whether to offer him a tour of her flat. Pros: it'd be nice to let him see a few more snippets of her life. Cons: having to get through the heavy implications of showing him her bedroom without it being suggestive enough that they'd risk distraction before they'd really had time to catch up.

So no, no house tour for Harry. Instead, Y/N led him to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

She clattered around with mugs and teabags and milk, allowing them a few moments of light chatter. How was Harry's journey, how had her morning been, she liked his outfit, he liked hers. Just enough to warm them back up to each other a slip back into their usual, easy dynamic.

The kettle pinged, and Y/N set about assembly theirbsteaming mugs of tea, letting them fall into a conversational lull that was just as easy.

Y/N turned around with the 2 mugs to find Harry staring fondly at her from where he was leant against the doorway. It felt nice, him being there.

She set the mugs on the kitchen table and indicated for him to sit down on the cushy bench against the wall, scooching in next to him.

“So I reckon, we do a bit of song writing now, and have a bit of fun later?" Harry said.

"Oh I can certainly get behind having some fun later," Y/N laughed, leaning into the innuendo.

"...that's not actually what I meant, but I'm not gonna argue," said Harry with a grin. "I guess it's time to get to work then, huh?"

"I guess so."

"What are we gonna write about?” Harry asked.

“Well, for our own sakes and to avoid people reading more into this than necessary let's not make it too obvious we're together, yeah?"

"So avoiding anything about being similar, being famous, tackling rumours..."

"The list goes on," Y/N chuckled. "Don't forget we've got to avoid talking about long distance."

"That'd just be depressing anyway."

"So what actually can we write a song together about?"

"Hmm... shall we just have a play around and see?"

___

Hours later, they had written roughly one and a half lines, a sequence of four notes and had their first, second and third fights.

“This isn’t really working, is it,” Harry finally admitted.

“You’re right."

"I dunno, I guess I spent so long having to write and sing fake shit when I was in the band. I can't really stomach it anymore," he sighed. "And god, you're like the most famously reactionary songwriter I know. Remember when you wrote that song about Howard Stern?"

Y/N let out a huff of laughter. "I sure do remember that, my manager won't let me forget it!"

"It was amazing."

____

They made efforts to try and overcome the collective writers block for another... five or minutes, before truly admitting defeat.

Y/N dragged Harry out of her little music studio and towards the fridge where she had a bottle of wine chilling. It had been intended for slightly later in the day... with the assumption that they'd be working for a bit longer than they had, but now seemed as good a time as any for it.

In the few short hours he'd been there, Harry had already began to make him self comfortable in the flat. So, while Y/N clattered around looking for the corkscrew, he made himself useful grabbing a pair of glasses down the shelf and setting them on the counter.

Then Y/N's phone began to ring.

"Shit," she said. "The only person whose number rings out loud on my phone in my manager, I'm gonna have to take this."

"No worries," said Harry with an easy smile.

There was no attempt at small talk from her manager, just a clipped order.

“Turn on the news." It was a tone of voice Y/N has heard reserved only for the most serious of situations.

Y/N didn't even bother asking further, she just went into the living room, picked up the TV remote and turned it on. There were a couple of tense seconds as she clicked on to the right channel.

The newsreader spoke.

“The UK is going into lock-down, everyone is required to stay at home apart from for essential outings such as food shopping.”

“Shit,” Y/N said. “Harry, get in here.”

Harry walked back into the room. The easy smile on his face dropped when he saw the frown Y/N wore, and the phone still pressed against her ear.

“What’s going on?” he said. Y/N silently gestured towards the TV.

Harry listened to the newsreader for a minute. “Jesus, I can’t believe this is actually happening." He ran a hand through his hair. "I’m supposed to be back in LA tomorrow, what am I gonna do?”

Y/N’s manager, still on the other end of the phone answered his question. “Tell him they’re pretty much cancelling all flights. They’re letting people get back to their own countries but he’s British, so it looks like he’s stuck there.” Y/N repeated it to Harry, who grimaced. He sat down on the sofa, head falling into his hands.

“I can’t go back to my flat in London, its a complete building site at the moment, I’m having the kitchen redone,” he said. “I could go to my mum’s maybe, but I don’t know if I’m even allowed to travel that far, plus she’s not really got the room. Shit,” he cursed.

The solution seemed to be staring Y/N right in the face, and Harry was being either too polite to ask or it hadn’t quite occurred to him yet that it was option. She let him run through a few more options - friends he could stay with, maybe he could rent a place - but ultimately none of them seemed quite right.

“Harry,” Y/N interrupted. “You can stay with me.”

He looked up, surprised.

“Are you- are you sure?” he said.

“Yeah I’m sure,” she nodded. “It’s no trouble I’ve got the space. And hey when else are we gonna be able to have a few weeks together like this. Might as well make the most of it.”

“Thank you, yeah that would be amazing. You’re right it’d be nice to have the time together.”

“Can’t wait to dress you up in my clothes,” Y/N laughed.

“I hadn’t even thought of that, I’ve only got like a weeks worth of underwear with me!” Harry said.

“Well, I’m sure it’ll only be for a few weeks, you’ll be okay.”

Famous last words.

___

Hello, I've returned from the dead! This is the final part of How it Turned Out. The sequel Play House is about Y/N and Harry in lock-down together where they co-write an album about their relationship! It’s gonna be quite a different format - each chapter will give backstory on one of the songs they write together! I’m really excited about it :)

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#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #musician!y/n #how it turned out

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nevernonline · 1 year ago

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✧.* grow as we go; smau masterlist

synopsis: over the past ten years you've fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it's clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt, (g)-idle minnie&soyeon, oc's

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex's, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

𐦍 start date: october 2nd 2023

𐦍 updates: mainly mondays or thursdays.

𐦍 tag list - open

𐦍 note/s: a lot of what will be written is mainly as journal entries from the readers perspective!! in the beginning every other chapter or so will have a written entry. I'm mainly using ulzzang pictures for our main character. I'll be posting the profiles and introduction sometime tomorrow probably. the girlies love indie musicians & harry styles,srry.. I hope u enjoy, hehe. ily!

𐦍 chapters under the cut.

𐦍 profiles:

001 | 002 | 003

𐦍 journal entries:

part one;

00. introduction.

#1. super sleuths.

#2. the case of the cyberbullies.

#3. two robots fell in love.

#4 the fall of the empire.

#4.5 plan b?

#5. chronic memory keeper.

#6. quit!

#7 snake in the grass.

#8 not the bath mat.

#9 seeing red

#10 nerd heard?

#11 devil in disguise.

#12 stolen heart.

#13 gut feelings and emotional dealings.

#14 dressing for revenge.

#15 leave it to the cullens. (part 1)

#15 leave it to the cullens. (part 2)

#16 the part we play.

#17 happy trails

#18 damage control.

#19 anywhere you go.

#20 lost and found.

#21 we're so back.

#22 end it all.

#23 signing off for now.

#24 epilogue.

part 2; (coming soon)

607 notes · View notes

avatar-anna · 2 years ago

Note

would you ever write a curious gaze type of concept ? especially for young dad!h like maybe he’s seen with one of his babies and the fan is observing him from afar

Curious Gazes

Three separate instances where the Styles family is seen out in the wild.

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe

The School Teacher

“Thank you so much for meeting with me today, Ms. Y/l/n. Will your husband be joining us today?” Mrs. Keating said.

“No, sorry, he's away for work.”

Y/n smiled at the middle-aged woman as she sat in the seat across from Mrs. Keating's desk. She was Simone’s kindergarten teacher. She hadn’t spoken to Y/n too much outside of the initial parent’s meeting at the beginning of the school year, and she didn't participate much in the school's extracurricular activities, and she often pulled Simone from school. But Simone was excelling doing well and on top of all her schoolwork, so Mrs. Keating didn't see any red flags. Y/n was young, very young, that much was clear, but she tried not to hold it against the girl.

However, Mrs. Keating eventually had to call Y/n in for a meeting after a couple recurring incidences the last few days. It was nothing major, but Mrs. Keating thought it would be wise to get ahead of it before the situation had the potential to escalate.

“That’s okay, dear. We can go ahead and get started.” Simone's mother motioned for Mrs. Keating to continue as she folded one leg over the other in her seat. The teacher eyed Y/n's sneakers curiously before saying, "It has come to my attention that Simone has been going around telling students that her father is a famous musician."

Mrs. Keating had overheard Simone telling her fellow students that her dad was Harry Styles, someone Mrs. Keating only knew because her niece was a big fan. She didn't know much about the celebrity, but she saw a magazine headline or the occasional photograph. There was no way Harry Styles was Simone's father or Y/n's husband.

"Right, um, I'll have a talk with her when I get home," Y/n said, sounding a little surprised.

Mrs. Keating smiled warmly at the girl. "Lovely. I just wanted you to be aware of the situation. Lying is frowned upon at this school."

"She's—My daughter isn't lying," Y/n said. "My husband is a musician. He’s—"

"It's okay if that's the story you want to give to Simone," Mrs. Keating said. Perhaps Y/n didn't know who Simone's father was and she just told her daughter offhandedly that her dad was a celebrity. "But it's started quite a few arguments in the classroom and on the playground."

Y/n mumbled some kind of reply, and Mrs. Keating found herself saying, "Sorry, what was that, dear?"

"I said, I will talk to Simone about being mindful of the things we say and how we say them," Y/n said, clearer this time.

"Wonderful. Have a good day, Y/n."

"It's Mrs.—Nevermind. Have a good day, Mrs. Keating.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

A few weeks after her meeting with Simone's teacher, everything seemed to be fine. She wasn't totally fond of Mrs. Keating's condescension, but there were no more incidences, and Harry and Y/n decided to wait to talk to the school's administration about everything. They wanted as little drama as possible.

And then it was Simone's turn for her class' "All About Me" presentation. She was supposed to make a poster that was, of course, all about her—favorite foods, favorite things to do at home, and of course, her family.

Y/n didn't think much of it, but that was mostly because Harry helped Simone with the project while he was on a brief break from touring. He and Simone had a lot of fun cutting out photographs with curvy patterned scissors, gluing on large bubbly letters that spelled out her name, and writing little paragraphs under each picture. And the glitter. Y/n knew she would be finding pink glitter around the house for years to come after this project.

Harry and Simone showed the finished project to Y/n, and she was thoroughly surprised by her husband's crafting skills. There were pictures of Simone in Holmes Chapel with Anne and Gemma, Simone's stuffed animals having a tea party (real china, because of course Uncle Louis thought Simone needed real china to have a proper tea party), Y/n and Simone at Disneyland with Mickey Mouse ears, and one of the whole family in the hospital when Collette was born. Harry was in a few pictures, obviously, but Y/n didn't think anyone in Simone's classmates would recognize him. It wasn't like there were pictures of him onstage or anything like that.

So she was surprised when a week after the project was turned in, Y/n was once again called into a meeting with her daughter's teacher.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

"No husband again?" Mrs. Keating asked Y/n. Really, though, that didn't come as a surprise.

"Actually, he's just running a little late. He should be here in a few minutes."

"Well, I'd just like to speak to you about the project Simone turned in last week," the woman said. "I thought we had squashed this whole 'dad is a rockstar bit' at school, but she had a picture of Harry Styles on her poster."

"Yeah, well—"

"Yes, well," Mrs. Keating interrupted. "You see, it's not right to fill a child's head with delusions about who her father is, and honestly, I feel like a good mother wouldn't let her child get her hopes up in such a way."

It was one thing to let children to believe in Santa Claus, but for a mother to lie to her daughter about the identity of her father, especially such an outlandish lie, it was downright irresponsible in the teacher's book.

Y/n looked shocked, but Mrs. Keating didn't know why. Surely, the girl knew why she was called for another meeting today. The woman expected to have a calm, reasonable discussion about Simone, but Y/n took her by surprise and said, "You—You, know what? I'm not comfortable having this conversation with just you. I think I'd like to speak to the principal as well."

She looked affronted, Mrs. Keating thought, though she didn't know why. Nothing she said to the girl was unreasonable. It was clear Y/n needed some assistance on how she should raise her daughter. She was just trying to help the poor girl.

"Y/n, there's no need to get hostile, dear—"

"Hostile? You haven't seen anything yet. I swear to God—"

"Hey, sorry I'm late—Woah. Everything okay, darling?"

Mrs. Keating's eyes flitted to the door of her classroom, and her eyes widened in shock. That was...that was Harry Styles. In her classroom.

"No, we're leaving," Y/n said, stalking over to Harry and gripping his hand when she reached him.

Harry immediately rested a hand on Y/n's shoulder, his face filled with concern. They mumbled to each other for a few seconds, and all Mrs. Keating could do was flounder at the fact that Harry Styles had a daughter, and she was in her kindergarten class.

"Right," Mrs. Keating heard Harry say. "I think we'll continue this discussion another day."

Harry's voice was thick with emotion. Anger, Mrs. Keating realized. She scrambled to think of something to say that would smooth things over. "Mr. Styles, I'm so sorry about this, I—"

"I think it's my wife you owe an apology to, but as I said, we'll talk about it another day."

The pair left without another word, harry's arm slung around Y/n's shoulders.

The following week, Mrs. Keating was written up and was informed that Simone had transferred to a different school.

The Production Assistant

Amy didn't want to make an ass out of herself and assume anything, but she was pretty sure her boss was in love with her.

Well, Harry technically wasn't her boss, but she was a PA on the set of Don't Worry Darling, and he had a leading role, so he was basically her boss.

If Amy told anyone what she thought, they would all think she was crazy, which was why she didn't say anything. She just got this vibe from Harry. He always went out of his way to say hello to her and ask how she was doing, he gave her a kind smile whenever she passed by him, and he once brought her coffee, even though her job was to bring coffee to him!

She just had this gut feeling like there was this unspoken thing between them, but neither of them acted on it because there were so many prying eyes. It was honestly admirable how professional Harry was about the whole thing.

"Good morning Harry," Amy said as she knocked on his trailer door. "They're almost ready for you on set."

Harry stepped out of his trailer. He was in costume—a crisp suit and hair styled to perfection. He was just so dreamy, Amy thought, and when he smiled at her stomach erupted into butterflies. "Thanks, Amy. Always makin' sure I'm on time."

Amy blushed. "Just doing my job, Harry."

"Call me H. Most people do," he told her.

A nickname? Harry said "most people" called him H, but she knew that was probably him just saving face. He really did like her.

"Good luck!" Amy called to him as he walked onto the set of his 1950s-era home.

Harry gave her a thumbs-up and winked at her over his shoulder, which only solidified Amy's suspicions.

Harry Styles was definitely into her.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Amy was going to make her move today, she had to.

Between all the flirty smiles and jokes and that one time Harry called her "Ames," she couldn't take it anymore. She didn't care if they had to keep their relationship a secret, she just wanted them to address the elephant in the room.

Harry was in his trailer while production filmed a couple scenes that he wasn't in. He usually watched to give his friends moral support, but today he only left when he was called to set.

Amy approached his trailer, a coffee just the way he liked it in her hands. She was so excited, she didn’t hear two voices laughing until she opened the trailer door.

“Shove off, H!”

“Shove off? That’s rude.”

“You’re crushing me, you big baby!”

“That’s exactly what I am. You know how hard it is to get your attention these days? I’ve got a small army between me and you. And it’s just gonna get worse.”

“Well you’re the one who doesn’t know how to pull ou—Oh. Hello.”

Amy was frozen on the steps of Harry’s trailer, unsure of the sight in front of her. Harry was sitting on the sofa, but around his broad shoulders, she could see he was actually sitting on a young woman’s lap. Amy couldn’t see much, just half of a face and hair tied up into a ponytail, but alarm bells immediately rang in her head.

Having noticed his friend stopped talking, Harry craned his neck to look over at Amy. He grinned at her, but made no move to stand up from where he was perched on the young woman’s lap.

“Oh. Hey, Amy! Am I being called onto set? I thought my call time was at seven.”

All Amy could look at was the way the young woman’s hand rested so casually on Harry’s knee, like she didn’t have to think twice about touching him. It was so simple yet affectionate, exactly how Amy imagined being with Harry would be like.

Somehow, she managed to wrench her gaze away. “No. No, uh, I just thought I’d check in because you’re usually, um, usually on set with the rest of us.”

“I know. Sorry about that. I just got a surprise visit from Y/n here, and she’s just desperate for my attention.”

She could be a friend, Amy thought. Friends had friendly banter and were close like that. Amy decided to still hold out hope. All the signs were there that Harry liked her.

Said random girl pinched Harry’s arm, but he swatted her hand away. They giggled with each other and kept pushing each other around like school children, and Amy was suddenly filled with immense jealousy. Who was this girl? Didn’t she have any respect for the fact that someone else was in the trailer?

“Honestly, Amy, you can have him. He’s being a pain in the ass,” the woman, Y/n, said.

Harry immediately pouted at Y/n. “I’ll remember that,” he said, but Y/n merely rolled her eyes at him.

They began bickering again, and Amy took that as her cue to leave. As she walked back to set, Harry’s coffee still in her hands, she didn’t know what to think.

Before long, it was time for Harry to shoot his scenes, and Y/n was nowhere to be found. Harry was as friendly and good natured as ever, he even asked Amy to wish him luck before a first take!

She wanted to watch Harry film his scenes, but she was unfortunately called away to tend to other things. Amy ran around the lot, carrying messages and running things back and forth for whoever saw her walking by. It was exhausting at times, but it was a foot in the door, and that was what mattered.

Between errands, Amy found Harry at the craft services table, and without even thinking about it, she made a beeline for him.

“Hey, H,” she said, trying to sound like she ran into him by chance. “How’s the shoot going?”

“Good, I think. Thank you for asking,” he said, smiling at her. “How are you? Working hard or hardly working?”

Amy blushed and let out a laugh. He was so endearingly dorky, and he always made a point to ask how she was doing. He was just so thoughtful.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she said.

“Good. Well, if no one told you today, I really appreciate your hard work. I’m sure this place would be in shambles if it wasn’t for you and everyone else working behind the scenes.”

Amy swore she was going to swoon any second now. Thankfully, she managed to keep it together. “O—Of course. I’m happy to help.”

“Can I trust you?” he asked her, his voice dropping so only Amy could hear him.

Gulping, she asked. “Of course.”

Harry stepped just a little bit closer, and Amy had to hold her breath as she waited for him to say what she’d been fantasizing about for weeks. “Do you mind going to my trailer and checking on Y/n?

Amy felt like the floor had been ripped out from under her feet. “Check? On—On Y/n?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Sometimes she doesn’t tell me how she’s really feeling, and I worry something’s bothering her.”

“Uh...Yes! Of—Of course,” she stuttered, willing thoughts back into her head.

Harry squeezed Amy’s shoulder affectionate. “Thank you, really. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

He was so endearing. His eyes, which were usually filled with something so warm and boyish and charming, so inherently Harry, but just then something flickered there, something softer.

But not for her, Amy realized. For Y/n.

With a couple more words shared with Harry, Amy set off for his trailer, mulling the last few weeks over in her head.

Could it all have been nothing? Did she really read into their interactions too much? Amy had never been in love before, but she was sure from that conversation with Harry that he was head over heels in love with Y/n. It sucked more than she wanted it to, though perhaps she should’ve known. Of course Harry would be in love with someone. Amy never stood a chance.

Knocking once on the trailer door, she popped her head in. Y/n was laying across the sofa, her arm draped over her eyes. When the door opened, though, she startled.

“Oh. Hey, Amy.”

She sounded kind but tired. “Hi. Harry wanted me to come by and ask if you need anything.”

She smiled, the kind of smile that said Y/n was familiar with this kind of treatment. “H is a bit of a mother hen, but I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Amy asked, stepping into the trailer. “If you need water, a glass of wine, whatever you need, I can get it for you.”

“No wine for me, but a water would be nice, now that I think about it.”

Y/n stood up from the couch, but wobbled a bit. Amy rushed over and rested a hand on the young woman’s elbow. “Should I get Harry? If you’re sick, there’s a medical tent nearby—

“I’m fine, I promise. I know the symptoms by now,” she said. Y/n looked at Amy, almost as if she was assessing her. “I’m pregnant.”

Amy wasn’t sure she could handle much more today. “You’re...”

“Yep.”

“Does Harry...?”

“Know? No, but I think he suspects. He knows me pretty well by now.”

Y/n let Amy help her sit back down on the sofa. “It probably isn’t my place to pry, but you...you don’t sound excited.”

“Oh, I am, I’m just exhausted,” Y/n explained, and the smile on her face made Amy believe that. “It’s just...the pandemic. I’m worried about having the baby in conditions like this, you know?”

Amy didn’t have much to say to that. What could she say? She was twenty, there was no way she could be of any help to Y/n’s current situation.

“Sorry, you barely even know me. I think spending most of my time with children under ten years old makes me miss adult companionship,” she said, then her eyes widened. “I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

Amy understood the implication. She guessed from how unfazed Y/n seemed to be at being pregnant. She didn’t know how Y/n and Harry managed to keep so many secrets, though his little speech about trusting her earlier now made sense.

“You’re secret’s safe with me,” Amy promised, and meant it. “But I think you should see a doctor anyway.”

“You’re probably right, but I think I just need to sleep for a little. Thank you for checking in. Harry talks about you a lot. He was so nervous about jumping into acting, but you’ve been a friend to him when I couldn’t be here physically, so thank you.”

It was quite literally impossible to harbor any bitterness or ill will towards Y/n. She was so kind and genuine. Exactly the kind of person Harry Styles would have a baby with.

Smiling, Amy said, “Just doing my job.”

The Daycare Worker

The daycare Heather worked at was known to celebrities for its discretion. Everyone who worked there was hired with the most important rule being that they were not allowed to reveal the identities of the patrons or their children. No photos, which was a given at any daycare, no talking about who dropped children off, and definitely no selling stories. The daycare wanted to provide a place for celebrities to drop off their children without worrying about their children's photo appearing in a magazine or on social media.

Heather knew all of this and abided by all the rules. After working there for two years, she'd become desensitized to the people she worked for, and it wasn't like she saw them all that much anyways, it was the children she saw the most.

The only family she couldn't get her head around was Y/n's. As far as Heather knew, Y/n wasn't a celebrity, but she dropped off her kids, a mix of six, a couple days a week. Heather never asked, of course, but she assumed that whoever Y/n had her children with was the famous person. But her kids were cute, and very sweet and well-behaved, which could not be said for all the kids Heather took care of.

The next time Y/n dropped off her kids, Heather was at the check-in desk. She walked in with a baby carrier on her chest, little Natalia tucked in it as she pushed a stroller. Maeve ran ahead while Julian clung to the pair of jeans Y/n was wearing. He was often reluctant to leave his mom's side, but once he was playing with Maeve and the other children, he was happy as a clam.

"Good afternoon!" Heather chirped. "Dropping the four of them off?"

Y/n smiled at Heather, and she thought that while Y/n technically wasn't a celebrity, she was incredibly beautiful. "Good morning. Just the twins and Geneva today."

Heather helped get everyone checked in and let Maeve inside while Y/n got Geneva out of the stroller she was in. Julian made no move to go to the preschool room with his sister, but that was to be expected. Once Geneva and Maeve were settled in their proper rooms, Heather turned her focus on the little boy who was still clinging to his mother's leg.

"Your hair is getting so long, Julian!" she said, bending down to his level.

"I want it to look like Daddy's," he said, big green eyes looking back at her.

Y/n bent down to Julian then too. "Okay, JuJu. Mommy will be back in a little bit. I have to work and run a couple errands and then I'm gonna pick you up and we're gonna go see Daddy at work. How does that sound?"

Heather's ears perked at the mention of Julian's dad, who had yet to pick up from the daycare before, but she quickly focused back on Julian. "That sounds like a lot of fun!"

After a little more coaxing, Julian eventually let go of Y/n and joined Maeve in the daycare with only a little bit of sniffling. Y/n handed over the twins' lunch boxes and some snacks and diapers for GiGi. She left quickly, not wanting Julian to see her and start crying, thanking Heather over her shoulder on her way out.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Another day, another shift at the check-in desk.

Heather was currently manning the front on her own while holding Geneva in her arms. The room where the toddlers played was close to the desk, and sometimes Heather liked to lean over and pick up a baby just because it was always nice to cuddle a cute baby, and GiGi was definitely that.

As she held the toddler in her arms, Heather thought back on Y/n dropping off the kids earlier in the afternoon.

The mom had come in around the same time as she normally did, in the early afternoon once they were out of school, only the twins came in with pink and blue hair.

"Wow," Heather had said. "You guys look so cool! Who did your hair?"

"Daddy!" Maeve said, her cotton candy blue hair bouncing as she skipped over to show Heather her new hair.

"Yep. Dad died their hair. We're not very happy with Daddy right now," Y/n said through a smile.

Heather tried to hide her laugh, though the situation was a little funny. "I'm guessing the hair was a surprise?"

"Yep!" Y/n said, still smiling, probably so she didn't upset her kids. "After I explicitly told him to wait until the summer because they go to a private school, but did he listen? No." Seeming to realize she was ranting to a daycare employee, Y/n shook her head. "Sorry, that was unnecessary, but Dad is picking up today. He's on the approved pick-up list, so everything should be fine."

"Great! Have a good day!" Heather said, a little more excited than she normally was. It wasn't like she spent all of her time wondering who the kids' famous father was, but she also couldn't help but be curious.

A couple hours later, and Heather was holding Geneva while Maeve and Julian played with toy cars and Natalia slept soundly in the nap room. It was getting to be about that time when they went home, and Heather was slowly filling with anticipation.

"Do you want to go play, GiGi?" Heather asked, pinching the toddler's cheek. Geneva shook her head and tightened her little legs around Heather's waist. "Fine by me," she said, switching the toddler to her other arm.

Heather was happy to hold Geneva and play with her at the front of the daycare. She was, for all intents and purposes, a relatively easy baby. She was calm and babbling until she noticed someone come to the front desk. "Dada!"

"Hi, GiGi! Did you have fun today?"

Now, Heather didn't live under a rock, and perhaps it was embarrassing, but she didn't have to turn around to know who had come to pick up Geneva. She gave herself two seconds to get ahold of herself and turn around to face Harry Styles, the person who was quite literally her phone background.

"H—Hi. You must be here to pick up Geneva, Natalia, and the twins," Heather said, grateful that she sounded relatively normal. She had no intentions of freaking Harry out.

Harry's grin was wide as he took Geneva from Heather's arms. "I am. My wife said to be here at four thirty, so here I am."

Wife. Harry Styles had a wife. And children. Not just one baby, but multiple children, and the rest of the world was none the wiser. It was nearly impossible to wrap her head around—she wasn’t even going to think about the fact that Simone was almost ten years old and what that might mean—but she tried her best to save her freak out for after he and his kids left.

"Right. She said you'd be coming. I'll call for them."

Heather tried her best to ignore the way Harry freaking Styles was kissing Geneva's cheeks repeatedly and using a baby voice to talk to her, otherwise she would probably melt into a puddle in front of him, which was definitely against company policy. She called for the twins and collected a sleeping Natalia from the nap room, who fussed a little but eventually settled when she was in her father's arms.

"Daddy!"

Maeve and Julian ran up to Harry excitedly, whose grin only widened as they rushed over to him. "There are my little monkeys! How are you?"

"We colored a picture for you!" Maeve said.

"Yeah, so you can give it to Mommy and she won't be mad at you anymore," Julian added.

Harry laughed and marveled at the picture his kids handed to him, Natalia still sleeping soundly despite the commotion. "I would say don't worry about that, but I think this will do the trick."

In no time, Natalia was strapped into the baby carrier that Harry put on with ease and the twins were in their jackets. Heather thought seeing Harry Styles with a baby strapped to his chest and the twins hanging off his arms was about the cutest thing she would ever see.

With a kind smile, Harry thanked Heather and went over to where Geneva's stroller was so he could get her into it, and though she knew she shouldn't have, she strained her ears to hear what he said to the twins as he left the daycare.

"She's really mad at me?"

"She did that thing where she smiles even though she's not happy," Maeve told him.

"Worse than I thought," he said solemnly, though Heather was sure he was joking. Kind of. "Well, what do you think, monkeys? Flowers? Date night? Spa day?"

"I think just saying you're sorry will work," Julian said, looking at Harry with those big eyes of his, ones that he got from his father, Heather now realized.

Harry looked down at Julian with a start. "You know what, Jules? I think you might be the smartest man I know."

He hefted Julian onto his hip and kissed his cheek until Julian erupted into a fit of giggles. And as she saw Harry's eyes crinkle with joy, she realized that was the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

They eventually left, Harry saying something about stopping by the studio before heading home, which the twins cheered about. Once they were gone, Heather let out a huge breath, finally feeling like she could breathe normally again.

She didn't know the whole story. She didn't know how Harry and Y/n met or what it might have been like to keep such a monumental secret from the world. As far as the public knew, Harry had ended a public relationship, when in reality, it seems like he'd been in a private one for a very long time. And a happy one, at that.

For a moment, Heather's fingers itched for her phone so she could call her friend and tell her what happened today, but she couldn't. And she didn't want to, she realized. Not really. Harry's family was happy living in anonymity. Heather wasn't going to ruin that for them, and she realized just how much trust and faith he and Y/n must have put in this facility to have their children come here, and she was glad to be someone that (technically) Harry Styles trusted, and that was pretty fucking cool.

#harry styles #young dad! harry #young mom! reader #young parent!harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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colossalcriminal · 2 years ago

Text

Housekeeping

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Harry gets a part-time gig cleaning the house down the street to escape the Dursleys for a few hours a week during the summer, he soon recognises the residents’ daughter as his own schoolmate.

Content Warnings: None, really? Not proofread. There’s no specific time this takes place, you could say it’s the summer after fifth year. Reader is also a Ravenclaw but it doesn’t have too much of an impact. Mentions of a functional family.

“There you go, Harry. Don’t worry about the downstairs, today. Just some light dusting upstairs and wiping the windows.”

Harry nodded, smiling down at the many shiny coins that lay in his hand.

He got to work, somewhat disappointed that there wasn’t much to do today. He wondered if there really was more, but the L/Ns were too nice to ask. Dusting along several shelves that lined the wall of the upstairs hallway, he made his way to the first room.

It’d been his first time in this one. The door, for the first time ever, was slightly ajar, a stark difference from its usual shut position. It wasn’t too clean, the trunk open and closet half empty, not yet finished with unpacking for the summer holiday. Books and trinkets were scattered about the table, bed haphazardly made. The walls were painted a pretty shade of cream, almost completely covered with posters of musicians such as Celestina Warbeck and Lorcan d’Eath, he was surprised to see them accompanied by several Ravenclaw banners and a blue and bronze tie hanging from the bedpost.

He had an inkling that the L/N family knew of magic and wizards, but for their child to attend Hogwarts? Harry did as he was paid to do, wiping the windows. Dusting the shelves, he was oddly determined to find out who lived in this bedroom.

A Ravenclaw.

Judging by the clothing style and size, which he knew very little about, she couldn’t be much younger than him.

The boy refused to snoop through the stack of letters on her bedside table, only one name catching his eye. Dean Thomas.

Were they friends? He hadn’t noticed Dean with a girl, but lately, he hadn’t noticed much at all. Were they dating? “Who are you?” Harry murmured, sighing as he went to look at the framed moving photographs.

With narrowed eyes, the name he’d been searching for had uncovered itself in his brain. “Y/N L/N.”

△⃒⃘

It was warmer than it was a few days ago when he was wiping windows and dusting shelves, Harry walked down the street, knocking on the door of number 8 Privet Drive.

Would she be home?

The door swung open several minutes later, but it wasn’t to address him. Perhaps his knock was too quiet, too nervous, to be heard. “I’ll be back late, tonight!”

“No, Y/N! Not a single minute after twelve!”

“Let's make it twelve-thirty!” She shut the door before her parents could retaliate, eyes widening slightly at the sight of him. “Oh, I think you’re cleaning the kitchen today.” Y/N told him before scurrying off, readjusting the purse strap on her shoulder.

His eyes trailed after her as she walked away. Summer was most definitely here, one could tell from her skirt and vest, along with the sunglasses that covered what he remembered to be very pretty eyes.

Shaking his head, Harry scolded himself for looking too long, getting one last glimpse of her wonderfully styled hair before entering the house.

He’d seen her, she’d spoken a total of eight words to him.

△⃒⃘

Thursday came, the second and last day of the week he had to clean, Harry would have to wait four more days to return on Monday to find any sort of reprieve from the Dursleys.

He insisted on wiping the countertops slower, ensuring maximum shine, scrubbing with utmost precision while Mr. L/N sipped on tea in the living room and Mrs. L/N judged the flower arrangement on the dining table.

The front door shut, and no one flinched. “I’m home!”

She placed her bag onto the table her mother was sitting at. “Hair up please, darling, Harry’s just cleaned the floor.”

Y/N huffed slightly before bunching her hair up into a clip, plopping down onto the sofa next to her father. “Hi, dad.”

Her father’s eyes remained on the newspaper. “Hello, you.”

“I’m hungry.”

“Hi, hungry. I’m dad.” She pouted at the awful joke. “You should’ve eaten while you were at the burrow.”

“I wasn’t hungry at the time.”

Harry kept to himself, brows furrowed. The burrow? He’d never seen her there, it must’ve been a remarkable coincidence that their lives overlapped so heavily, yet they have yet to speak more than ten words to each other.

“Go make a sandwich then.”

“I’m lazy.”

She retreated to her bedroom after a light chat with her mum, and soon he was due back at number 4.

△⃒⃘

“Why don’t you stay for dinner, Harry?”

“What?” Y/N almost dropped the plate she held while setting the table.

“What?” Harry’s face was one of surprise. The two spoke simultaneously. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, Mrs. L/N.”

The older woman waved him off, supplying her daughter with a fourth plate. “Nonsense, we would love to have you.”

And so the quartet sat for dinner, the teenage girl beside her father, the boy beside her mother. “This is really nice, Mrs. L/N.”

“Thank you, dear.” A short pause. “Are you and Y/N good friends in school?”

The pair weren’t sure of what to say. “We don’t talk much, mum. Different houses and that.”

“Speaking of houses, that final game for the Quidditch cup!” Mr. L/N began, eliciting a sigh from Y/N. “Absolutely ridiculous! I always tell Y/N, just because you score the first few points, doesn’t mean you calm your attack, don’t you think so, Harry?”

“I can’t say much, sir, but I know that Y/N is a great player.”

“Not great enough for Ravenclaw to beat you.” She murmured, slightly annoyed. “We would’ve won that match if Davies hadn’t substituted Chambers for Bradley.”

Harry smiled. “I have no doubt. Fair game, though?”

With hesitance, she nodded. “Fair game.”

He took notice of her face, the lipgloss she wore and the darkness of her eyelashes, a blush creeping up his neck.

As dinner soon came to a conclusion, Y/N was tasked with the light burden of walking him to the door. “See you Thursday.” She dropped the coins into his hand, their fingers brushing against each other, but only he took notice of the warmth radiating between them.

Had he been hallucinating?

△⃒⃘

“Mum and dad are out, come in.”

He nodded meekly, the confidence he’d built up since Monday dissipated. “You’re working on downstairs, today. The floors.” It was his first time seeing her at home, comfortable. Not leaving, or just returning.

But the thought of it reminded him of a particularly embarrassing day.

The upstairs flooring was completely carpeted, easier to clean than downstairs as all he had to do was a quick vacuum.

He pushed the machine along, running it over every imperfection he could spot, until he found himself before a certain door that was now shut, like always.

Harry contemplated. Her bedroom counted as upstairs, right?

The boy was itching to refresh his memory of her room, dying to know if her decor had remained the same, despite it being just a little over a week since he’d last seen it.

With an odd spur of confidence, he wrapped his hand around the old knob, twisting it and opening the door with a quiet click.

He didn’t expect her to actually be home, and he wasn’t surprised she hadn’t noticed her door open just about three inches, a bespectacled eye peeking through. It was much too loud to hear the opening of the door, with the noise of the vacuum and the melody of Celestina Warbeck’s debut album playing at a considerably loud volume.

She laid on her stomach, bed lazily made underneath her, her cheek resting on her palm, the other hand holding an arithmancy textbook.

Her legs occasionally swung back and forth in the air. Y/N was clad in just a pair of pajama shorts and a vest to combat the summer heat they weren’t used to in London, or Hogwarts.

Harry’s breath hitched into his throat, all of his willpower being used to ensure he was not to choke and break out into a coughing fit at the sight of her chest pushed up due to her positioning. After all, he was a teenage boy.

With a gulp, he quietly shut the door, shaking his head at no one but himself.

She didn’t instantly run upstairs, instead, she returned to her seat at the dining table, picking up her quill and continuing her scribble.

Y/N’s system was neat, efficient. Several relevant textbooks were scattered around her, each open to a different section. Multiple past essays she’d written, and scored especially high on, displayed for her to copy any impressive vocabulary. The television was on, but she didn’t seem to be distracted, instead, she hummed along to the tune of whatever Weird Sisters song was playing, continuing to write.

Grabbing the broom, he began his duties.

Minutes passed, downstairs was a lot of ground to cover.

He worked around her. “Would you like anything to eat?”

Harry’s head snapped up to find her already looking at him with a sheepish smile. “Sorry? Erm, no. Thank you, though.” She nodded, unsure of how to feel after what felt like his rejection. “Do you like music?”

The girl chuckled at his question. “I do, a lot. You?”

“I don’t listen to it much.”

“You should come over more often, then. I have a massive collection of records upstairs, we could listen together, find out what’s to your taste.”

He only nodded with a small smile, internally giddy a the thought of this being their first conversation, instigated by no one but them. His heart nearly burst at the thought of being in her room, a record turning while they chatted about whatever. “Do you go to the burrow a lot?”

“Only sometimes, to see Fred and George. I’ve never seen you there, do you go often?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“Must be a coincidence, we keep missing each other.”

In his effort to get the mop out and ready for use, his shoulder jerked, hitting the shelf next to him.

Multiple books had come off at the impact, falling onto the floor and landing with a harsh thud. “Here, let me help.” Harry didn’t hear her, and he didn’t notice the speed at which she’d walked around the dining table and to the shelf, too soaked up in his nervousness and silently scolding himself.

Y/N crouched down, collecting the fallen books into a pile. “Thank you, I’m sorry for the mess.” He forced out.

She let out a giggle, then another, and then a proper laugh. He only stared at her in utter bewilderment, wondering whether he was a joke, or she was a madwoman. “Sorry,” She calmed down, a few chuckles still coming between her words. “you’re just so oddly charming.”

The Ravenclaw took notice of his expression, an adorable mixture of worrisome, flushed and somewhat flattered. “It’s a good thing. You’re cute.”

“Cute?”

She shuffled closer to him to reach for the stack of books he’d picked up, the pair of them now fully sat on the cold floor. “Yes, Potter. Cute.”

He turned his head to face her, they were now aware of their proximity, the closeness. The lack of space between them. His brows furrowed nonetheless, his mouth forming a pout. “Cute? Really?”

“Would you prefer another adjective? Adorable?” Her face moved toward his, a bashful smile playing on her lips. “Harry?”

“Yes?” The call of his name didn’t aid him in snapping out of his trance, he was hypnotized by the colour of her eyes, the strawberry scent of her moisturizer filling his nostrils. “Can I kiss you?”

With her nod, their lips joined, his hand travelling to cup her cheek.

The front door shut, with a brief announcement from her parents, declaring their return. “Better get to work.” Y/N whispered, patting his chest twice before returning back to her study station.

#harry #potter #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x you #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fluff #harry james potter #harry james potter x reader #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction

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lemoncrushh · 5 months ago

Text

That Sunday, That Summer

Summary: Kelly's roommate Bianca talks her into participating in a celebrity charity scavenger hunt that Harry Styles surprisingly attends.

Warnings: None! This is pure fluff!

Word Count: 6.1k+

A/N: Inspired by the Nat King Cole song. Harry x OC, written in first person. Originally posted in 2020 (I was not writing reader fics then).

If I had to choose just one day...

I hadn't planned on going. Sundays were usually reserved for me time. And this particular week had been grueling; I needed the day to chill and unwind. Besides, the new novel I'd decided to pick up on my way home on Tuesday was calling my name.

But Bianca had insisted I join her.

"It's for a good cause," she whined that Saturday evening after dinner as I loaded the dishwasher. "You'd be helping people, and isn't that what you're all about?"

I chewed on the inner side of my cheek. My roommate knew my weaknesses and soft spots.

"I hear a few celebrities are even joining in," Bianca added, wiggling her eyebrows.

I chuckled. "Celebrities are interested in spending their Sunday going on a scavenger hunt?"

"If it's for charity, yeah. Besides, we have an odd number of people who've signed up. If the teams aren't even, it won't be fair!"

Turning to look at her, I put my hand on my hip. "And what if I show up and so does someone else, and it's still uneven?"

Bianca rolled her eyes and groaned. "Pleeease Kel! You'd be doing me a huge favor if you go!"

"Why's that exactly?" I questioned.

"Because...I sort of already signed you up."

So that Sunday morning in early June, I reluctantly got out of bed way before the time I normally would, and by nine a.m., I was standing in an empty parking lot next to Bianca as we waited for instructions. The sun was still behind a cluster of clouds, allowing for a mild morning, but I knew within a couple hours I would be sweating through my t-shirt.

"So...when do we get this show on the road?" I asked Bianca impatiently.

"I think we're still waiting...on some people..." she muttered, looking around at the group that had gathered before gesturing toward the tall woman wearing a headset and holding a tablet. "Then Marla will divide us into teams."

"Great," I sighed.

"C'mon girl, it's gonna be fun," Bianca smiled, looping her arm through mine.

Holding back a yawn, I watched as Marla turned suddenly, and a string of people exited the building behind her.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed, recognizing the familiar faces.

"I told you!" Bianca giggled, squeezing my arm.

"Yeah but...I didn't think..."

It wasn't completely unheard of to come across a celebrity now and then. Not in Los Angeles. I'd seen a few since moving there. But they'd usually been out of reach, just a glimpse for a millisecond before I had time to digest who it was, and they were out of sight.

I caught the blush in Marla's cheeks as she turned toward the crowd again, and the line of famous faces took their places on either side of her.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming!" she announced into her microphone. "For this very special event, for a worthy cause, we've had the overwhelming pleasure of recruiting these six very kind, and very generous people to join us. Please give a warm welcome to..."

My mind was in a fog. I heard Marla announce the names, each celebrity nodding and waving, but it sounded far away, like at the end of a tunnel in some celestial world in a dream. This couldn't be real.

But yet, here they were. Right in front of me. Swallowing hard, I finally made my own connections in my brain as to whom they were: a mix of actors, musicians and other personalities. But it was the man who stood on the far right that I was most in awe over. Dimples displayed on his cheeks as he smiled, dark stubble adorning his handsome face, curls all a mess around his head resembling a disheveled halo, he looked like an angel.

"Can you believe Harry fucking Styles is here?" I suddenly heard Bianca squeal in my ear, like the pop of a balloon.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I exhaled through my teeth.

"I actually didn't know for sure. There were rumors, but I didn't wanna get my hopes up."

The two of us listened to Marla as she explained how the game was played, and what the ultimate goal was. Though it was a competition, we had to remember it was for charity, and to have fun.

"We will now divide into six teams," she said before addressing the celebrities again. "If the team captains wouldn't mind calling out the names on your lists."

The first actor took the mic, calling out his team. Neither Bianca nor I were called. I felt her arm slip from mine as she took my hand instead, threading our fingers. Three more celebrities created their teams, leaving just two, with Bianca and I yet to have made a team.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," I muttered, trying to take in a deep breath.

"I feel ya girl," whispered Bianca. "But hey, even if we don't get Harry, it's okay, right?"

"Of course," I chuckled, though it was a feeble attempt.

When the woman standing next to Harry read off her list of names, and Bianca and I were not on it, I felt like I could pass out.

"Please tell me you had something to do with this, B!"

"I swear, I didn't!" she promised with wide eyes. "I helped with the scheduling and all, but I didn't have anything to do with the teams or the celebrities. I'm not that lucky."

"I guess that means the rest of you lot are mine," I heard Harry say with a giggle.

Bianca and I eyed each other, letting out giggles of our own. Calling out the final names, I heard Harry say ours, his sweet accent making mine sound better than I'd ever heard it spoken before.

In a momentary daze, I'd forgotten what to do next until I felt Bianca jabbing me in the side to get me to move. Following the other members of our team, we gathered near Harry as he began to greet everyone individually. Mentally shaking off some nerves, I psyched myself into believing he was just another person, like anyone else.

"Hi, I'm Kelly," I said when it was my turn, holding out my hand.

"Hello Kelly, I'm Harry."

I shouldn't have looked at his face then, because his eyes were blinding. Like magnets, they seemed to pull me in until I felt as though I was melting down a precipice of oozing syrup and honey. Nope, definitely not like anyone else. Help.

Whether I'd muttered the word aloud or not, I'll never know, but Bianca came to my rescue as she introduced herself as my friend as well as a member of the charity organization. Releasing my hand, Harry smiled and shook hers, declaring he was happy to meet us all and have us on his team. After Marla made her final announcements, Harry turned to his group, cutting the tension by making a joke and causing us all to laugh.

"Let's have fun, alright?" he suggested, lifting the papers in his hand and handing them out. "Looks like there's some pretty easy things on this list, others not so much. But we'll do our best."

"I already have something on this list," announced another woman on our team, reaching into her purse. Producing a Dum Dum, she beamed. "Lollipop!"

"Good job, Trisha," grinned Harry. "Hold onto that, and we can check that off our list."

Trisha's face went red as she dropped the candy back into her bag and drew an X on her paper. I smiled to myself, knowing that not only was she proud of her finding, but that Harry had remembered her name so quickly.

"Now, shall we venture out?" Harry asked, turning for the sidewalk.

With unanimous nods, the five of us followed Harry, stopping at the corner.

"Are we supposed to stay as a group?" asked one of the men, whose name I'd learned was Donte.

"I don't think we have to," replied Bianca.

"No, that's up to you," Harry turned to face us. "We just don't wanna double up on anything. That would be a waste of time. So if you wanna split, we'd have to divide up the list."

"I think we should stay together," I piped up. "At least...for now."

"Me too," added Trisha.

"Alright," Harry grinned, our eyes locking again. "Let's see how it goes together for the first hour or so. Then if we need to split up, we will."

Nodding, I bit my lip. I could tell Donte was not happy with my decision, but we'd only just started. I didn't want to risk being separated from Harry already. This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me.

As we walked, we all chatted a bit, though it wasn't that easy with six people. The sixth man who made up our group I finally learned was Trisha's fiance, Brian. He was pretty quiet, and I assumed he'd only tagged along for Trisha's sake.

"So it looks like the only rules are that we can't purchase anything," I heard Harry say from the front of the line. "If we find anything we can't take with us, we can take a picture of it."

"Oh good, 'cause look!" I exclaimed, pointing to a chalkboard sign that stood outside of a restaurant. "Ice cream!"

Harry and the rest of the team looked at the sign, noticing the big multi-colored chalk drawing of an ice cream cone. Then turning his head back to me, his green eyes sparking, he smiled, making me melt once again.

"Good one," Harry nodded. "Very clever."

"Thanks!" I beamed, standing up straight with pride.

"Mind taking a picture of that, Kelly?" he asked me.

"Oh, sure," I fumbled with my crossbody bag, digging inside for my phone as the sound of my name from his pillowy lips made me weak in the knees. Finally, retrieving my cell, I snapped a couple of pics from different angles for good measure. As I zipped up my bag again, lifting my head, I saw Harry marking off his list, the rest of the team walking ahead. Looking up at me, his lips stretched into another winning smile.

"Hey guys," I suddenly heard Bianca call. "There's a boutique here. We could probably get one of the shopping bags."

"Oh yeah," I muttered, grabbing my list. We needed three different shopping bags.

"Come with me," she ordered, a slight smirk on her face.

Bianca quickly took me by the hand and led me inside the store, leaving Harry and the others outside.

"Go girl!" she cheered in a loud whisper.

"What?"

"He's into you!"

I rolled my eyes incredulously. "Oh, give me a break."

"I'm serious! After you found the chalkboard, he couldn't stop looking at you. He was still checking you out when I turned around just now."

"He was not checking me out," I scoffed.

"Whatever girl, be in denial." Traipsing off to the register, Bianca asked the cashier for a shopping bag. I pretended to be interested in a display of scarves until she reached the door and gestured for me.

When we stepped outside, however, the crowd seemed to have multiplied. Glancing around in confusion, I quickly learned why. Harry had been spotted. Watching the handful of people getting their photos taken with him, the rest of us waited by the curb.

"Is this gonna happen all day?" inquired Donte.

"He's famous, dude, what do you expect?" said Brian, surprising us all. "It was only a matter of time."

"Yeah, but our time is limited. And if we have to keep stopping..."

Harry strode up to us then, his tall frame casting a shadow on the sidewalk. "Sorry about that. I was trying to hurry it along. Sometimes they get a bit chatty."

"No worries," I smiled.

"I have an idea," Bianca offered. "I say we go ahead and try to mark off all the things on the list that we know we have to do as a group. Like all the group photos and stuff. We can probably get the other two shopping bags as well. Then we can split into pairs."

"Pairs?" I whispered, earning me a wink from her.

"Sounds good to me," Trisha shrugged.

"Me too," Donte echoed.

"I say we head across the street," Bianca pointed. "We can probably get the rest of the shopping bags, and maybe someone can take our picture with someone in uniform."

Waiting for the light to change, I saw the sun come out from behind the clouds for the first time that morning. I sighed, half wishing it would have stayed cool and overcast, but as we crossed the street, I caught Harry putting on his sunglasses, and I changed my mind.

We found the other shopping bags quickly, and as luck would have it, I spotted a woman in Army fatigues coming out of a coffee shop. She was taken aback when we asked her for a photo until we explained what we were doing. With a hesitant smile (and a hug from Harry), she agreed, so we all lined up on either side of her and asked a passerby to take our group picture (who also got one with Harry).

Within the rest of the hour, we were able to find a fast food menu, a napkin from a restaurant, a sale flyer, a photo of someone getting into an Uber, and a picture of a capital V.

"Um...how are we supposed to take a picture of everyone in one bathroom stall?" Trisha asked timidly.

Harry's laugh rang out like a songbird, and had I not been watching where I was going, I might've run into a parking meter. Removing his sunglasses, Harry's green eyes sparkled like diamonds in the sunshine, and the corners crinkled as he chuckled with glee.

"I actually have an idea for that," he began, pointing further down the block. "There's a restaurant down that way that makes amazing tacos. I happen to know the owner, and I also happen to know the men's toilet is very clean and has two stalls. I suggest we break for lunch - my treat, of course - and take our selfie while we're there."

I couldn't stop the smile from spreading on my face, not just from his generosity and cleverness, but the adorable way he pronounced "tacos".

"Aw man, I know that place," said Donte. "And you're right, they got some bad ass tacos."

"Then what are we waiting for?" asked Bianca. "I'm starved!"

Making a beeline for the crosswalk, Bianca and Donte led the group, followed by Trisha and Brian, leaving Harry and me to bring up the rear.

"Having fun so far, Kelly?" Harry inquired as we walked side by side. His close proximity sent electricity to my skin, and I found myself rubbing my right arm, though I was far from cold.

"Very much," I nodded, once again trying to psych myself out. So what if he'd smiled at me? He smiles at everybody. And he's...got a great smile...for heaven's sake! "This is very nice of you."

"Oh, it's my pleasure. I was beginning to think Donte didn't like me very much."

With a giggle, I looked up at him, noticing he'd placed his shades on his head, serving as a headband for his curls.

"I was thinking he wasn't too fond of any of us, to be honest," I commented. "But he seems to have mellowed in the last hour."

"Oh, so you didn't know him already?"

I shook my head. "No. Only Bianca. She's my roommate."

"I see," remarked Harry. "I was under the impression she was with him."

"Who, Donte?" I laughed. "No, they'd never met either."

Tilting his head, Harry seemed to study the pair far ahead of us, then looked back at me. "They seem to be getting along pretty well now."

Watching my friend, I noticed the way she was chatting with Donte, laughing at something he'd said before touching his bicep. If I knew Bianca - and I was sure I did - that was a signature flirting move.

"Yes, they certainly do," I agreed.

Just then, I heard the faint sounds of sneakers pounding on the concrete before I turned to see two young girls running toward us, their chests heaving.

"Oh my God, it's him, it's really him!" one of them screamed.

"Harry, look out!" I warned, afraid they were going to come right at him and knock him over.

"It's alright, love," I heard him say softly before he turned around, his hands out like he was ready to catch someone if need be. "Slow down, please."

"Oh my God, I'm sorry!" the first poor girl choked, already in tears.

"It's really you!" breathed the other one.

"It's me," Harry chuckled low, his kindness turned up a notch. "Hello. How are you?"

"Great, we love you so much!"

"So much! Your album is the best!"

"Thank you, I love you too. Please catch your breath," said Harry. "I don't want anyone to pass out."

"Sorry!" the first girl squeaked, still trying to get her bearings.

"Don't apologize. What's your name?"

"Alicia."

"Chloe," added girl number two.

"Alicia and Chloe, it's lovely to meet you both," Harry said sincerely. "Now, I have something important I'm working on, and I have to get going. Did you want a picture?"

"Please!"

"Yes, please. If you don't mind." Chloe clutched her sparkly phone case in her hand as I stepped up to her.

"I'll take it for you," I offered, holding out my hand. "So you can both be in it."

"Oh, thank you so much!"

With a nod, I took her phone as the three lined up for the photo, Harry putting his arms around each of the girls. Snapping several shots in a row so Chloe had a few to choose from, I then zoomed in a bit and took a few more.

"Here you go," I smiled, giving Chloe her phone back.

"That's so nice of you, thank you!" she said again.

"Of course, no problem," I declared just as I looked down and spotted the girl's shoes. "Harry, look!"

"Ah, you've done it, again!" cheered Harry, nudging my arm.

Alicia and Chloe both looked at us perplexed as I asked, "Mind if I take a picture of your shoes? I'm playing a game, and I need something with a zebra print."

"Um...sure?" Chloe replied hesitantly.

After snapping the photo, we thanked the girls who then thanked Harry again before waving goodbye. Resuming our trek up the sidewalk, Harry spoke.

"That was very nice of you, by the way."

"Oh, it was nothing. Those girls are just like me. I'm a fan too."

"Of mine?" Harry raised a brow.

"Oh heck no, Bradley Cooper!" I chaffed, side-eyeing him to see his reaction before letting out a snicker.

Despite the shake of his head, Harry's dimples were on full display as he laughed at my jab.

"You're funny," he remarked.

I threw my head back, calling out to the sky. "Oh thank God, someone thinks I'm funny! I'm the only person who laughs at my jokes."

With another chuckle, Harry placed his hand on the small of my back. "C'mon, Funny Girl, let's go. The rest of the team is probably already at the restaurant."

While I didn't consider myself a comedian, or even particularly funny, the fact that I'd gotten Harry Styles to laugh was the highlight of my day - perhaps of my life. And though his hand slipped from my waist as quickly as he'd touched it, the tiny gesture was tender and left a feeling of warmth on my skin, even through my t-shirt.

When we reached the restaurant, Harry held the door for me, and just as suspected, the group was already gathered at a table, munching on chips and salsa.

"Where were you slow pokes?" Bianca asked with an unspoken accusation.

Rolling my eyes, I explained about the fans just as Harry arrived at the table with a plump latino man in an apron.

"This is Frederico," he announced in a semi-believable Spanish accent, patting the man on the back. "He makes the best tacos in all of California. And he says we're welcome to as many as we like."

Frederico laughed and nodded in agreement, handing out menus to the table.

"A friend of Harry's is a friend of mine," he declared, making us all cheer.

Our team of six devoured more than two dozen tacos while we shared good conversation. Everyone was glad to hear any story Harry had to share, but he was good at shifting the topic to someone else, wanting to learn more about each of us. Just within that half hour or so, I decided I liked him. Not that I hadn't liked him before. I was a fan after all, despite my joke earlier. But now I was getting to know him a little bit personally, and the vibes he gave off were very pleasant and right up my alley.

"So after this, we break off into pairs, right?" asked Donte.

I took notice of the look he gave Bianca. I almost smirked until Harry's voice answered his query.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. That is...if Kelly doesn't mind being my partner."

My eyes wide, I bit my lip as I felt Bianca kick me under the table. Facing Harry, I thought I might melt down my chair like the queso we'd been eating. Though his expression looked nonchalant, not even a twitch of a smile on his lips as he rested his chin in his hand, his eyes seemed to dance with joviality underneath the fluorescent lights.

"Um...sure," I said casually, reaching for my soda. "I don't mind."

I caught a glimpse of his left dimple, pushed back by the tiniest of smirks just before he lifted his glass to his lips. I wondered to myself how long I could possibly continue to stare at him if no one else was at the table. But alas, we were not alone, and I could already feel the blood rushing to my neck as Brian reminded us we still needed to take that group selfie.

Rising from the table, I dropped my paper napkin onto my plate as I watched everyone else walk single file to the restrooms. Suddenly recalling my phobia of confined spaces, I worried I might not be able to include myself in the group photo. Wringing my hands, I grasped at the extra stack of napkins, already feeling myself sweating.

"You coming, Kelly?" I heard a voice ask.

I knew it was Harry's, but I didn't look up at him just yet. Instead, I merely nodded as I dropped the wad of napkins onto the table, slowly making my way around it. Inhaling slowly, I blinked and exhaled in the same fashion.

"Hey. You alright, love?"

"Huh?" This time I lifted my head, Harry's calm face coming into view as I tried to focus. His arm was reaching out for me as I hoped to God the tacos I'd just eaten weren't planning an unfortunate encore.

"Yeah, I'm...fine," I gulped. "I'm just...oh God, how embarrassing..."

"What's wrong, Kelly, are you sick?"

Shaking my head, I wiped at my brow. "No. Just...claustrophobic."

"Shit. We probably shouldn't do this then."

"No, I'll be fine," I argued. "I can do it. For the team."

Harry chuckled as he rubbed my arm. "It's just a game, love. It's one photo. We don't have to take it."

"Come on, guys!" Donte called from the men's room, holding the door open. "The stall is huge! We can definitely all fit in here."

Though Donte's affirmation was reassuring, it was Harry's hand that caressed my forearm from my elbow to my wrist that had the most calming effect. Taking another deep breath as I watched his ringed fingers travel up and down my skin, I nodded.

"Yes, we do have to do this," I told Harry. "I can't let down my team."

Beaming at me like a child at Christmas, Harry pulled me close, squeezing my body against his in a one-armed hug as he placed a sweet kiss on the top of my head.

"Such a trooper, you are," he murmured. "I've got you if anything happens. Stand in front of me, okay?"

Releasing myself from his hold, I gazed up at him and nodded with a smile. Then following Donte into the bathroom, I giggled when I saw the rest of the group already inside the stall. Taking a gander at its size, I felt dumb or ever being nervous. Still, I did as Harry had said, and stood in front of him, facing the stall door. Then because he was the tallest, only by an inch maybe, Brian was the one who lifted his phone and snapped the selfie, all of us looking up and giving our cheesiest grins.

Nobody needed to know, not even Bianca, though she was my friend, and it was probably undetectable in the photo anyway, but Harry had looped his arm around my waist right before Brian snapped the picture. He'd held it there as he'd lifted his other hand to make a peace sign, and continued to keep it there long after he'd dropped that other hand to push my hair from my neck to whisper in my ear, his breath tickling my flesh and sending my heart into orbit.

"You okay?" he asked, his lips practically kissing the back of my ear.

"Yeah," I whispered back.

Oh, yeah. I was more than okay.

"You mentioned you work at a law firm?" Harry inquired after we'd split into pairs and divided up the remainder of the list.

We were walking in a more residential area, and I was hopeful we might be able to find a few domestic items as well as plants or flowers.

"Yeah," I replied, "I'm a paralegal at a medical malpractice firm."

"And you enjoy it?"

I shrugged. "Can't complain. I never really set out to do it or anything, like it wasn't my life's goal. But I started as a receptionist and eventually took some courses and...it's a good job."

"How long have you been there?"

"Seven years." Stopping in my tracks, I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear as I gazed straight ahead. "Jeez, has it been that long?"

Harry chuckled, as I shrugged.

"Anyway," I continued, my feet taking me ahead as well, "like I said, it's a good job. I like the idea of helping people, so it's much better than say, working for a criminal lawyer or something. I'm not sure I could do it knowing the defendant is guilty of a crime."

"But if they weren't, you'd still be helping them," Harry commented.

"I suppose so," I tilted my head. "Some of these families though...they lost loved ones; they're grieving. We're able to give them just a little bit of peace...and that makes me happy."

"You're a good soul, Kelly."

Looking up at him, I smiled. "Thanks. So are you. That's why we're here, right? Or at least you are. I'll admit, Bianca dragged me here. But she knows my weakness."

"Scavenger hunts?" Harry snorted.

"No, silly," I cackled, unable to stop myself from lightly slapping his arm. He didn't seem to mind as his infectious smile remained on his gorgeous face. "Helping people."

"Ohhh, right," he giggled, lifting his finger to scratch his nose. That was when I noticed the adorable way the tip of his nose wiggled when he tried to talk through his laugh. I found myself itching with the desire to kiss it.

"And here I thought maybe you were here because of me," he remarked.

"You? I didn't even know you were coming," I confessed. "That was just...a pleasant surprise."

I caught a miniscule of a blush on his cheeks before he looked down and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, I mean...I'm no Bradley Cooper, but..."

Throwing my head back, I laughed heartily. "Oh my God, you're a dork!"

"Heyyyy."

Before I could rebuttal, something caught my eye to the left, so I wandered to a nearby gate where it looked as though the home owners had a garden. When I stepped closer, I saw them, my breath catching.

"Look, Harry!"

I felt his body standing behind mine as his hands wound around the iron bars of the gate. We stared in silence for a few moments, watching the bed of daffodils sway in the breeze.

"Wow, you're good," I finally heard him say.

"Thanks. They're my favorite..." I turned to face him, suddenly realizing how close he was, "...flower."

I could barely see the irises of his green eyes as he looked down at me, his focus on my mouth. I knew it was, because mine was on his. His body was pressed to the front of mine, my back against the gate. If I'd even dared to move, I wouldn't have been able to. His fists remained on either side of me, holding onto the gate as he seemed to lean closer, or perhaps it was wishful thinking. I wondered if he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to, and yet a voice seemed to sing inside my head, telling me to go on and kiss him. Suddenly, his eyelids blinked and his gaze traveled up my face to look me in the eye.

"Um..." he swallowed, "let's...take a picture...of the flowers, I mean."

Releasing his grip on the bars, he stepped back from me. I'd never felt such a cold chill as I cleared my throat and reached for my phone in my bag.

Harry and I continued on our quest after I took the photo, and though we still made small talk, it felt awkward. Or maybe it was just me.

After taking a photo of a lovely lavender wreath on someone's door, I decided to say something that had been on my mind since before the daffodils.

"Harry," I said, in front of the neighbor's hedgerow.

"Yes?" Turning to look at me, he noticed I had stopped. Then walking closer, his mouth turned down with a look of concern on his face. "Something wrong?"

"I just want you to know," I declared sincerely, "that I think you're way better than Bradley Cooper."

His beautiful eyes squinted a mere second before the gorgeous smile grew on his lips. His laugh was delicate, a mix of a chuckle and a giggle, more like a titter...a teehee? A sniggle? Is that even a word? Whatever it was, I adored it, and I was glad I'd caused it.

I dared to step closer to him just as he held a hand out and grabbed mine, pulling me to him.

"You're great, you know that?" he said to me, not really waiting for a response, though I gave one anyway.

"I am?"

With a nod, he brushed my cheek with the back of his hand before tucking my hair behind my ear.

"I'm really glad you came, Kelly," he conceded.

"Me too." And there went the melting all over again, the oozing of his words like maple syrup running down to my toes.

Harry held my hand for the rest of the afternoon, at least until we got back on a main road, where no doubt he could be spotted again. We'd managed to check off several more things from our list, leaving only a couple before calling it a day.

Meeting the rest of the team again at the restaurant, we headed back to the parking lot with our complete list. Donte and Bianca had had a lucky streak, finding all of their items. Brian and Trisha had only missed one.

Trudging as a team to our final destination, I felt fatigued, much like I did after leaving a concert at the end of the evening. I felt a bit melancholy for the ending, but still exhilarated from the experience. And my declaration to Harry hadn't been a lie. I was definitely glad I'd come. Just sad that it was over.

Even more sad that I might not ever see him again.

Turning our lists into Marla, she smiled and thanked us all for coming. Unfortunately, another team had won, managing to check off every single item and leaving an hour earlier. Though a bit of a disappointment, we knew what really mattered.

"Kelly," I heard in a raspy voice behind me as Bianca and I said goodbye to Trish and Brian, wishing them luck on their wedding.

Harry's eyes seemed to glow in the twilight as I turned to face him. Wordlessly, he took my hand, pulling me to the side and around a dimming streetlamp. I had a feeling he wanted to say our goodbyes in private.

"Harry, I had the best time with you today," I blurted first.

"I was gonna say that," he pouted.

"Sorry. I just..."

"Just what?" he asked, holding both of my hands.

"I just didn't wanna hear a but afterwards," I admitted.

"Who says there's a but?"

I stared at him, still waiting for the word, but it never came. I searched his eyes, as much as I could manage in the darkness. But all I saw was sincerity, like he was thinking the same thing I was. Lifting his right hand, he grazed my cheek just like he had before.

Go on, kiss him...go on and kiss him...

The seconds seemed to simultaneously freeze and speed up as I watched him lean closer, his other hand slipping under my jaw. His skin was warm against mine, the cool of his rings adding a tiny chill, enough to make me hum as I closed my eyes, just before our lips met.

Even though just moments ago various things had been going through my mind such as how my t-shirt and shorts were clinging to me and I needed a shower, or how I wondered how much money the charity had raised, or how I wondered if Bianca really was into Donte...none of that was remotely relevant as Harry's pillowy lips caressed mine, fitting with them like perfect puzzle pieces. Nothing else mattered as his hand slipped behind my neck and his fingers tangled in my hair while his mouth opened slightly to invite my tongue. And no other single notion in the world could have even compared to the way his chest rose and fell beneath my hand while my other one found the curls at the base of his neck as he groaned hungrily against my kiss.

"Mmm," I sounded when our mouths threatened to separate, still teasing the other.

"Kelly..." Harry breathed against my lips.

"Yes?"

Standing straight, he looked into my eyes. "Would you like to go out sometime?"

I blinked rapidly, knowing I'd heard him right, but still incredulous. "Like...a date?"

"Yeah," he nodded, his voice an octave lower. "I really like you and...I'd like to see you again. Spend more time with you, get to know you. Would you like that?"

"More than anything in the world."

The smile I knew to be his but that had come to be just for me that day tickled his lips.

"How's...Friday? Or wait, Saturday..." Harry reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. "I'm so sorry, love, this is so formal. But I have to check my schedule."

"No worries," I giggled.

"Ah, seems I have Friday and Saturday free. Which is better for you?"

"Friday," I answered hastily. "It's sooner."

His handsome face beamed at me as he clipped my chin with his finger and placed another quick kiss on my lips. "It is indeed."

We exchanged numbers, agreeing to text later to work out the details. I giggled when I noticed he put a taco emoji next to my name in his contacts.

"I look forward to it," he grinned before giving me one last kiss, this one soft, slow and sweet. "Goodnight, Kelly. I had a wonderful day."

"Me too. Goodnight, Harry."

I watched him walk toward the building where Marla still stood, stopping once to turn and wave. I blew him a kiss, perhaps a bit cheesy, but I didn't care. I figured he was into cheese. He gave me his dimpled smile before blowing one back, then disappeared inside the office building.

"Well, look at you, Miss I-Didn't-Wanna-Come!"

I scoffed playfully at my roommate as she walked towards me.

"It's amazing what one little Sunday can do, huh?" Bianca added.

Looping my arm through hers, I walked with her to her car.

"Thanks for signing me up, B," I said with a bounce in my step, despite my fatigue. "It wasn't so bad after all."

Darling, it would be when you smiled at me...that way...that Sunday, that summer...

Hope you enjoyed! Please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

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storiesforallfandoms · 1 year ago

Text

a star in the making ~ harry styles

word count: 2382

request?: yes!

“Heyyy how are u? So I wanted to request an X factor Harry X reader where Y/n and Harry are dating and she goes to the X factor with him for support? I just want smth cute with this bc I've never seen one like this🥺 thank you♥️”

description: in which she goes to support her boyfriend when he auditions for a reality singing competition, both of them unaware that he’s about to become one of the biggest musicians in the world

pairing: harry styles x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mainly fluffy as hell, rpf tho so if you don’t like that don’t read

masterlist (one, two, three)

2010

His hands were shaking as they approached the venue for the auditions. There had to be hundreds of people waiting outside. People just like him, hoping and wishing that they would be good enough to advance forward in one of the biggest singing competitions in the world - The X Factor.

His mum had suggested he should audition for the show. Harry loved to sing, and he was a fantastic singer. His mum was always pushing him to enter talent shows or any other opportunity to show off his voice. Harry knew he could sing, but he never thought he’d actually be good enough for The X Factor.

Until his girlfriend joined his mum’s side.

He had met (Y/N) in school and fell for her almost immediately. It was one of those teen relationships where they were all over one another and never wanted to be apart. Everyone said it would never last, that it was just young love that would fizzle out by the time they both graduated. Neither of them ever took that to heart because, even if it was true, they were okay with enjoying their time together now.

The first time (Y/N) heard Harry sing was in the shower. She had slept over to his place (in the spare bedroom, as per Anne’s rules) and woke to the sound of water running and Harry’s voice singing a Stevie Wonder song. She nearly jumped on him the second he stepped out of the bathroom to tell him how good his voice was. After that, (Y/N) pushed Harry just as much as his mom did to convince him to try out for The X Factor. With two of the most important people in his life convinced he would do well, Harry finally gave in and signed up for auditions.

(Y/N) took hold of Harry’s shaking hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re gonna do great!”

“There’s so many people here,” he said. “They’ll never choose me.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” she said. “Besides, it doesn’t matter if you make it through. The fact that you even came for auditions is a huge achievement. You should be proud of yourself.”

Harry smiled as she squeezed his hand again.

When they called him in for his audition, he was beyond nervous. His shaking had escalated to a point where he was sure he wouldn’t even be able to sing. (Y/N) and Anne stood backstage to support him. (Y/N) gave him a peck on the cheek for good luck before he took stage.

Harry was painfully aware of how bad his audition was going. He sounded nervous, and he could not stay on key to save his life. He could feel his face and neck burning with embarrassment. He wanted to disappear on the spot and never be found again.

But then Simon Cowell did the unthinkable and let him start his audition over. “Choose a different song,” he had said. And when Harry looked over at (Y/N), smiling supportively back at him, he knew exactly what song to choose.

“Isn’t she lovely? Isn’t she wonderful?”

It went much better this time, but he was still shocked when he was given the pass on to bootcamp. He was so excited that he didn’t even stay on stage to hear the end of Simon’s sentence. He ran to (Y/N), taking her into his arms and spinning her around as she and Anne cheered for him.

“I told you you could do it!” (Y/N) said. “You were so good, baby!”

“I wouldn’t have done it without you.”

Anne cleared her throat and was raising a playful eyebrow at her son. Harry put (Y/N) down to hug her as well. “You know I couldn’t do it without you too, mum.”

“I’m so proud of you, sweetie,” Anne said.

Harry turned back to (Y/N). “Can you come to the bootcamp, too? Do you think school will let you be away for another few days?”

“I can’t see there being an issue if I’m away supporting my boyfriend on a reality TV show. I’ll catch up if I have to.” She cupped his face and planted a big kiss on his lips. “I’ll be here to support you as long as you want me to.”

And she kept that promise. After a lot of convincing, (Y/N)’s parents agreed to talk to the school to let her take time off so she could go to the bootcamp. It was very needed, because Harry’s nerves only grew as the bootcamp arrived. He wasn’t sure how it was going to go. He couldn’t dance at all, and he had a feeling his nerves weren’t going to help him learn. (Y/N) tried to reassure him, but he couldn’t shake the pessimistic feeling that he had going into it.

And he was right. He tried not to look too disappointed when he was eliminated from the show, but the second it was just him and (Y/N), he let his emotions out. (Y/N) hugged him tightly as he cried into her shoulder.

“You did so good, babe,” she said. “You made it further than you expected!”

“I know,” Harry said through his tears. “I just got my hopes up a bit that I’d go a bit further. Getting to bootcamp and then getting eliminated, it feels more humiliating than if I had been eliminated from the auditions.”

(Y/N) cupped his face and forced him to look at her. “Listen to me, you should not be humiliated. You did so well! The fact that you got past the auditions is a huge achievement. Actually, the fact that you auditioned at all is an achievement. You should be proud of yourself. I know I am, and I know your mum will be, too.”

Harry nodded, but he wasn’t completely feeling it. He just wanted to go home and lay in bed for hours until the disappointment wore off. They were about to leave when a producer called out to stop them.

“We have an idea,” he told the two.

The idea, it would seem, was to match Harry up with four other contestants that had been eliminated from the solo rounds. Four other guys that were close enough to Harry in age, named Louis, Niall, Liam, and Zayn. They all had the same look on their faces as Harry did - a little dejected, but also a little hopeful about this pairing.

“We’re thinking you could be the big boy band for this generation if things go right,” Simon was telling them. “I’m talking Backstreet Boys for the 2010s. If you are all interested, that is.”

“We’d be stupid to say no,” Louis pointed out.

“Great! We’ll have you all enter as a band. You can talk amongst yourselves and come up with a name. No rush, though. You can let us know whenever you come up with something.”

He left the five to talk amongst themselves then. It was a bit awkward to say the least. They were five young men from different parts of the UK, having come to The X Factor to audition as solo artists, only to be put together in a band with four other strangers. Harry fidgeted with his hands a bit before (Y/N) took one of them in hers, hoping to relieve some of the awkwardness for them.

“Well then, lads,” Niall said. “Seems we’re a team now.”

“Seems so,” Zayn agreed. “How are we feeling about this?”

“I’ll take it over being eliminated again,” Liam said. “Worth a shot, right?”

“Maybe it’ll work out better than you all expect,” (Y/N) suggested. “For all you guys know, you’ll be the next big thing. Stars in the making.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, maybe. Or maybe we’ll get booted after two rounds together.”

“You’re such a Debbie Downer,” (Y/N) said. “Don’t get down on yourselves yet. You don’t know what’s gonna be in store for you.”

~~~~~~

2023

Harry’s body ached and his eyes were burning in a way that made him want to crawl into bed and sleep for a week straight. As much as he had been dreading the end of his almost two year long tour, and as much as he didn’t want that fun and excitement to end, he knew he needed the rest. Especially after giving it his all during the last few shows of the tour. His legs were so sore that he felt like he could barely make it to his hotel room without collapsing onto the hallway floor and falling asleep right then and there.

(Y/N) walked by his side, one arm around his waist, basically assisting him to get to his room. She giggled up at his sleepy face. “You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I feel like it,” he mumbled. “It was a really good show, though.”

“It was fantastic, baby. You gave them all a show they’ll never forget.”

Harry smiled to himself. A show he’d never forget, either. A tour he’d never forget, in fact.

And, just like when he auditioned for The X Factor, (Y/N) had been with him every step of the way. It was safe to say they had beaten the claims that their relationship was just a high school fling, by a very long shot.

When they got to their room, Harry swiped the key card and nearly fell into the room. (Y/N) laughed as she closed the door behind him and started shedding herself of her heels and dress. “You should really just go to bed, love. You look so tired.”

“I need a shower first. I can’t get into bed after being all sweaty.”

But that was only half of the reason Harry was adamant on showering before going to bed. Despite being so exhausted, Harry had one last big plan for the night.

He quickly showered, opting for cold water in hopes it would wake him up a bit more. He had no idea what he was going to say when he went back out there. He had prepared about ten different speeches in his head leading up to this moment, but none of them were coming to him in that moment. He felt more nervous than he had been all those years ago when he walked into The X Factor auditions, with (Y/N) at his side giving him all the reassurance he needed.

He got out of the shower and quickly towel dried as much of his hair as he could. He pulled on a pair of pajama pants and took the little box he had taken into the bathroom with him from the counter. When he stepped back out into the hotel room, (Y/N) was laying on the bed waiting for him. She was wearing one of his t-shirts, her favorite pajama alternative. Her eyes were closed, but the second he entered the room she opened them and smiled at him.

“Feel better?” she asked.

“Still tired, but much more refreshed.”

Harry crossed the room and knelt down next to the bed. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing, you weirdo?”

“Remember when we first got together, and we had that type of teen relationship that was so intense that we never wanted to be away from one another?” he asked. “Where people told us we shouldn’t be so stuck to each other because it likely wouldn’t last?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “How could I forget? I swear, it’s like everyone was rooting against us back then.”

“You wanna know how I knew they were all wrong? Even when we were still teenagers?” (Y/N) hummed in response. “Because you gave up weeks of school just to come support me when I started the show. You gave up so much time that the school threatened to hold you back because they said you’d never be able to catch up, and even then you tried to convince your parents to let you stay for the rest of the show.”

(Y/N) smiled at the memory. “Because I wanted to be there. I wanted to watch you every step of the way, right up until the finale. I would’ve, too, if my parents hadn’t gotten so upset over me almost flunking out because of it.”

“That’s how I knew you were my endgame. Because you could’ve watched the show at home. Or you could’ve not supported me at all and just thought I was being stupid for wanting to audition for the show. But you didn’t. You insisted on being there for me, even after I told you that you didn’t have to be. People don’t do that unless they really love someone.”

(Y/N) propped herself up on her elbow. “Where are you going with this, Harold?”

Harry put the open ring box on the bed next to (Y/N). Her eyes widened as she slowly sat up. Harry watched her every movement as he asked, “(Y/N), will you marry me?”

Tears welled up in her eyes immediately. She nodded, unable to form any words.

“Yeah?” Harry asked, his eyes lighting up.

“Yes, you idiot,” she finally managed. “Of course I’ll marry you. Oh my god, yes!”

The force of Harry’s lunge to hug (Y/N) knocked them both back onto the bed. He kissed her so passionately it made both of their heads spin. She wrapped her arms around him and held him to her, never wanting to let him go.

Until she realized - “Oh, the ring.”

“Right!”

Harry sat up, allowing (Y/N) to do the same, and took the ring from the box. He gently placed it on her ring finger. (Y/N) took a moment to admire it before she was the one to jump on Harry and push him down onto the bed. He laughed as she kissed all over his face, leaving his lips for last so she could take her time there.

“I love you so much,” she said.

“I love you more,” he responded. “I’ve loved you since we were 16.”

“That’s so close to being that one song you and the boys did.”

Harry chuckled and pulled her into his arms.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #imagine #one shot #request #rpf #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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positivelyholland · 2 years ago

Note

SOPHIE WE NEED A STYLES-SWIFT READERS DITL ON EACH OF HER PARENTS' TOURS

pairing: harry styles/taylor swift x daughter!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: i couldn't think of any but lmk if i missed some :)

summary: moments of your life as a child of famous musicians on tour

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taylor Swift on "The Eras Tour":

You can hardly contain your excitement as you walk hand-in-hand with your mom, Taylor Swift, to the stage. The lights are dim, and the audience is buzzing with anticipation.

You feel a little nervous, but your mom's reassuring smile calms your nerves.

As soon as your mom steps onto the stage, the crowd erupts in cheers. You watch in awe as she performs her hit songs from each of her albums, ultimately playing some of your personal favorites.

As the show goes on, you can't help but dance and sing along to every song. You see your mom glancing your way every once in a while, and it makes your heart swell with pride. You're so proud of her and all that she's accomplished.

During the acoustic portion of the show, your mom steps to the front of the stage with just her guitar. She tells the story behind one of her most personal songs, "Soon You'll Get Better," which she wrote about her own mother's battle with cancer.

You look up at your mom with tears in your eyes, feeling grateful that she's here with you and healthy.

The show ends with a spectacular finale, complete with fireworks and confetti. You and your mom take a bow together, and the audience roars with applause. You feel so lucky to be a part of this moment with your mom.

As you walk backstage, your mom takes your hand and gives it a squeeze. "I'm so glad you were here with me tonight," she says, giving you a warm hug. "You're my little star, you know that?"

You smile up at her, feeling loved and happy. "I know, Mom," you say. "And you're my big star."

Harry Styles with "Love on Tour":

As you step off the tour bus, you can't help but feel a sense of excitement and nervousness wash over you. This is your first time traveling with your dad, Harry Styles, on tour.

It had been quite the process to figure out all the logistics of you being able to come on tour with him. Whether it was online school, music lessons, or even just spending time with your mom, Taylor. But you were able to make it all work in order to be able to attend HSLOT

You've always been a huge fan of your dad's music, but seeing him perform live in front of thousands of fans is a completely different experience. You can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you make your way to the backstage area.

"Hey, there she is!" your dad exclaims as he sees you walking towards him. He pulls you into a tight hug, and you can't help but smile as you feel his warm embrace.

"Are you ready for this?" he asks you, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

"I think so," you reply, trying to sound confident.

As you follow your dad to his dressing room, you can't help but feel a little overwhelmed. There are so many people bustling around, getting everything ready for the show.

But your dad is there every step of the way, showing you around and introducing you to all of his bandmates and crew members. You feel like a VIP as you watch them rehearse and prepare for the show.

As the opening notes of your dad's hit song fill the arena, you take your place in the front row. You can feel the energy of the crowd as they scream and cheer, and you can't help but feel a little proud knowing that your dad is the one making them feel this way.

As your dad sings his heart out on stage, you can't help but sing along with him. It's like you've known these songs your whole life, and you feel a sense of connection to the music that you've never felt before.

As the show comes to a close, your dad takes your hand and leads you back to the tour bus. You're exhausted but exhilarated, and you can't wait to do it all over again tomorrow.

"I'm so glad you're here with me," your dad says, giving you a squeeze.

"Me too," you reply, feeling grateful for this once-in-a-lifetime experience.

As you drift off to sleep, you can't help but dream about all of the adventures that await you on this tour with your dad

#harry styles x daughter!reader #taylor swift x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader #the eras tour #harry styles love on tour #hslot #harry styles x reader #dad!harry styles #styles swift!reader

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mydearesthrry · 6 months ago

Note

i loveddd the musician reader blurb 🥹🥹 would loveee to see more

a/n: I LOVED WRITING IT THANK U FOR THIS ANON. enjoy my babies <3 i have an fc for musician!yn x har and its gonna be gracie abrams :p

warnings: nonesies, fluff!!

—

“hey, h?” Y/N called from her spot on the sofa, her laptop on her lap as she scrolled through the files for her next project, entitled five seconds flat.

“yeah, baby?” he shouted back, his footsteps soon following his words as he walked through their house, sitting next to Y/N when he arrived. “whats wrong?”

“um, to be honest, i- i don’t even really know. i just think something’s missing from here,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “like, i love it so far, but it’s missing something. i think it’s missing it’s ‘overarching love’ song. which is really stupid because this album has so many love songs.”

“not really.” he replied simply, shrugging and looking at her.

“what do you mean? there’s tons!”

“really? like what? go through the tracklist, baby.”

she rolled her eyes, mumbling a ‘fine!’, before pulling up the tracklist. “see! um, all my ghosts, what a shame? kinda?”

“exactly.” he stated, giggling at his wife.

“you’re so annoying. can you help me? please?”

he scoffs playfully, “as if i didn’t produce nearly the entire thing f’you, but sure.”

“okay, so i’m thinking of a poem that i wrote a long time ago called lame, and i wanna work on that. it was right before i told you i loved you.”

after cracking open y/n’s journal and flipping through the pages, they had finally had a song.

“fucking finally, holy shit!” she shouted, clapping as she collapsed on harry who laid sprawled on the couch.

“y’still gotta record it, m’precious wife,” he giggled. “and find a feature. since we decided that’s what we’re doing, f’some reason.”

“fuck my life,” she groaned, twisting in her spot to attach her cheek to his chest, hair fanning out around her and nearly tickling his nose. “why can’t you do it with me?”

“no.”

“harry,”

“no.”

“harry!”

“no, dude!”

“harry,” his wife stressed, holding the ‘y’. “pretty please? i’ll do that thing you like with my mouth?” she offered, knowing he wouldn’t refuse that.

“oh my god, fine! but this is the first and last collab im doing!” he grumbled exasperatedly.

“thank you, oh my god!” she squealed, running over to him and jumping, legs wrapping around his legs and her arms crossing around his neck.

“whatever. better hold up your end of the bargain.” he rolled his eyes, his hypocritical hands coming down to rest on her waist.

she grinned, jumping down from him and placing her hands on his chest. blinking up at him owlishly, she ran her hands down his torso and murmured, “i plan to, handsome. i’ll even start right now.”

———

liked by charles_leclerc, sabrinacarpenter, and 7,662,617 others

yourinstagram: took a tiny break and ended up at long pond with my beautiful producer husband <3. u have to wait to hear what we made there,,, butttt….. HATE TO BE LAME FT HARRY STYLES IS OUT NOWWWWW LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU

pinned yourinstagram: ps our faces when we cant figure out a chord progression 😭😭😭

comments on this post have been limited

charles_leclerc: Already streaming in the Ferrari garage!

> scuderiaferrari: charles_leclerc we can confirm 🫡

> yourinstagram: scuderiaferrari OMGGGGG MI FAMIGLIAAAAAA LOVE U

landonorris: party celebration for the surprise release when???

> yourinstagram: landonorris get podium this weekend and u can celebrate for us 🤗🤗🤗

billieeilish: crying again i love you guys

ynrrysweethearts: EEEEEK

niallhoran: Gnomeo and Juliet back and better than ever!

> harrystyles: Rude.

madisonbeer: ur literally perfect in every way goddd i miss u guys so much

> yourinstagram: madisonbeer we miss u our precious daughter

harrystyles: We’re so cute. I love us.

harrystyles: I love you times infinity. It makes sense that you’ll probably be my first and last feature. H Xxxx

> yourinstagram: first and last but a few more right 🥹🥹

daylightyn: our parents!!!!!

alexandrasaintmleux: my beautiful angel girlllll

> yourinstagram: alex my love i miss u to bits

francisca.cgomes: we miss u on the paddock sweet bby 💞

> yourinstagram: oh my god kika i miss u so much its a problem

——

liked by yourinstagram, niallhoran, and 9,266,166 others

harrystyles: HATE TO BE LAME. OUT NOW.

view all 78,189 comments

yourinstagram: 🤭🤭🤭

yourinstagram: love youuuuuuu so muchsies

> harrystyles: I love you moresies. Xx

yourinstagram: ok look at us being models

yourinstagram: am i hyping u up enough

> harrystyles: yourinstagram Yes. Fueling my ego.

yourinstagram: my precious baby angel sugar cookie muffin pie <3 <3

> harrystyles: You’re insane.

user1: MORESIES??????? WTF

user2: he just said moresies yn is influencing him too much 😭😭😭

> yourinstagram: user2 its my job!!!! 😁😁

user3: they’re both on the writing credits they prob wrote it together 😭😭😭

oscarpiastri: dad!!!!!!!!

> harrystyles: No. ❤️

user4: harry calling yn insane is so funny like hes def heard worse

user5: i love them so bad oh my god

user6: I DIDNT KNOW HARRY AND THE F1 BOYS WERE FRIENDS

> user7: yes!!! yn’s sister was a mechanic for ferrari and is now lando’s race engineer so they all get along really well!

yourinstagram: sorry im back here again WE R SO CUTEEEEEE

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry edward styles #harry styles drabble #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles angst #harry styles imagines #harry styles smau #harry styles social media

125 notes · View notes

writingsfromhome · 8 months ago

Text

Dos and Don’ts II

A/N: the story kinda got away from me so it’s getting a part 3. Would love to know what you think of the characters/choices!

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

—————————————————

It’s a beautiful morning; the late summer heat is right around the hour but for now the morning clouds keeps the city cool. I’m sat at Harry’s dinner table with stacks of paper around me, sorting out paperwork whilst on hold with a private venue he was playing in the fall to sort out some details his manager asked me for.

I had become good at my job, multitasking like a pro and not having to leave the room to make a call. After all, it had been nearly half a year of this.

And yet, my relationship with Harry Styles had stayed the same. Sometimes it felt like it got worse.

My other relationships, in the rest of my life, had definitely gotten worse.

“Riley just called said he’s sent over some prints I bought for the bedroom,” Harry pops into the room. “Can you call someone to put them up?”

“Yeah, where do you want them?” I get up so he can show me.

“Somewhere that looks good in there,” he waves his hand. “It’s pictures of me.”

“Of course they are,” I know how big-headed he could be. “Above the bed?”

“Hm,” he heads off to the bedroom so I follow. He examines each wall of his bedroom which was pretty neutral and relaxing to be in. “Why not? Yeah. Above the bed’s good.”

“Great.” With that I head back to my makeshift office.

I wondered why Riley didn’t message me directly about the prints considering we avoided getting Harry involved in these minor decisions.

Maybe I’d ask him tonight. We were having drinks—we tried a bunch of times to get together seeing we were “coworkers” but our timing rarely worked out. Since Gray was out of town the next two nights I’d reached out to Riley.

Evening comes quicker while I’m still buried behind paper. I start tidying up after 7.

“Going home?” Harry asks. He’d been out most of the day at voice lessons.

“Yes, your dinner’s in the oven and Roy said he left cocktails in the fridge.”

“Lovely Roy,” Harry rubs his hands together. “He makes the best drinks.”

I smile and go back to work.

“There’s enough for two,” he calls with his head in the fridge. “You want to join?”

Of course the one night Harry asks me to join him personally—a time I could use to get on his good side, I’m going out.

“I’m actually heading out for drinks myself.” He’s already placed the jug on the marble countertop.

“Oh.” He freezes awkwardly. “With your fiancé?”

“No,” for some reason I feel flustered at his mention of Gray. “With Riley actually. We’ve been meaning to get together for drinks since…I started. Wow. That’s been a long time.”

“Riley,” Harry purses his lips. “Does your fiancé know?”

“It’s a friendly drink,” I feel my temper flare. “I don’t need to report to my fiance.”

“If my fiancé was going out to drinks with a man with loose hands, I’d worry.”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re not engaged,” I mouth off before I can stop myself. He raises a brow and the single movement has me backpedaling. I was such a coward. “So you don’t have to worry.”

“Y/n you get away with a lot but I’d remember who’s working for who.”

I clench my teeth. Just seconds ago he was inviting me for a drink and now I’ve dug myself a grave. I couldn’t be stopped.

I grab my bag and head to the elevator.

“Don’t turn your back on him once he’s got a few drinks in.” Harry calls out.

Asshole, I think.

***

God, Riley talked a lot. He’s got 3 drinks to my 1.5 and really got the gift of the gab.

That is until he starts asking me about Harry.

“Do you find him hot? He’s kind of a lady’s man yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” I laugh. “Got ‘em all lined up.”

“And you?” He asks casually. “Has he got you yet?”

“Riley! I’m engaged,” I flash my ring.

“Didn’t stop the last girl,” he mutters.

“What? What’s that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me,” I poke him, knowing he wanted to talk about it anyway.

“Just that the last PA he had for…less than a year? She had a boyfriend and everything but one time I pop in early to set up for this masseuse right—I’m there and I hear someone in the bedroom with him. No big deal whatever. Then Harry comes out and he’s fuming just seeing me. Tells me to get out and leave the rest, that I should have called him. All this shite. And then I see her jacket, she wore a very specific jacket, and her shoes off the way. He was angry cuz I caught them.”

“Woah,” I think about the way Harry treats me. “Well I don’t have to worry about that. He can be a right dick with me.”

“He can come off that way. Until you get to know him. Well. He used to be nicer. It’s changed a bit since I started.”

“How long?” I ask, curious.

“Uhh I was his PA for a year and now this for one and a half?”

“Wow. That’s a long time.”

“I know. Too long. Well, big things are coming for me I can feel it. How about you? Are you staying long? I hear the way he talks to you, I don’t know how you put up with it.”

I thought he talked to all his PAs that way. Maybe he was different when Riley was his. Of maybe it was that Riley was a guy. Maybe the fame got to his head. “Uhm. I want to stick around for at least a year. What do you mean the way he talks to me?”

“He’s rude.” Riley runs his hand through his hair. “Don’t you find him rude? You’re surprisingly…graceful, but he’s always bossing you around and then ignoring you.”

I feel a pit in my stomach. So I wasn’t imagining it. “I thought that’s just the way he is.”

“No, you should have met him a couple years ago. A really cool guy. He taught me a lot.” Riley suddenly sobers as he looks off into the distance. “I grew a lot with him. I’m thankful for that y’know?”

“Right,” I nod. “Yeah. I dunno. I’m hoping to learn a lot here.”

“Well if you want to stay connected, keep my number. When you wanna jump ship just let me know.”

I’m surprised Riley is talking so openly about helping me leave. I would have thought he was a Harry die-hard.

“Yeah. Hey are you the one that’s created all those notes on the phone? They’ve been a life saver.”

“Notes? Oh the lists. I made them when I was his PA. I don’t know if the last girl updated any…”

I think of the snarky additions. She definitely did.

“Well I owe you my first-born because without them I’m pretty sure I would have been fired.”

“No you wouldn’t have,” he smirks.

“Uh yeah, I forgot to bring his bloody tablet to the studio the first day. He was so mad.”

“He wouldn’t fire you y/n,” he cocks his head to the side. “Not with the way I see it.”

“Huh?” I ask but Riley’s turned to the bar to ask for another drink.

I excuse myself and freshen up, checking my phone for messages. Gray’s sent me a picture of his hotel view and I send him a quick text back. I wish he was here. Maybe it was time I got home, I was starting to feel tired.

“I’m thinking of heading home,” I tell Riley when I get back.

“Now?” He looks at his watch. “Night’s still young y/l/n.”

“I’ve been up since 6 I’m dead.”

“Fine, I’ll walk you outside.” Riley knocks back half his drink and stands, swaying slightly. I put my hand out to steady him and he smiles down at me.

The pub is crowded as we walk past people, shoulders brushing against strangers. It takes me a second to feel the hand on my back sliding down to my ass.

I whip around to chew out whichever stranger thought he could get a grope but the only person behind me is Riley with a cocky smile.

“You alright? Let’s keep going.”

I can hear the blood pumping in my ears and I stumble back, Harry’s words echoing in my ear.

“I’m alright.” I try to put distance between us. “I’ll walk myself out you should look after your drink.”

“Nah c’mon,” he reaches for me again and I inch back.

“I said I’m okay,” I know my voice comes out harsh due to the fear coursing through my body. But I don’t care.

“Bloody hell alright then,” Riley shrugs. “Night y/n.”

I wait for him to turn and leave before I get out of there. The night air cools down the flush in my cheeks but I can’t get my heart to stop racing. Harry was right and for some reason it makes me angry at him. I’m furious.

All these men just made me feel small and confused all the time. Is that what I had to accept working in this industry? Was I just naïve for thinking things could be decent? That people could be decent?

I wish more than ever that Grayson was here. I imagine him on his own in another city. Then I imagine him alone, at home, while I’m working all the time. It felt like we were on a piece of ice drifting through the ocean and the middle was cracking leaving us to drift alone. My heart feels like it’s cracking with it.

I call Gray on the ride home just to see his face. I listen to him talk about his day and slowly my grip on the anger loosens. Slowly with his voice in my ear, I come back down to earth.

***

It’s a couple weeks after the Riley incident. I’d come into work the next day and managed to ignore Harry for most of it just like he did me.

Today I’m back at the dining table waiting for Harry’s publicist to call me to take me through what was left for this upcoming weekend for a small awards show Harry had been nominated in that was happening Sunday. Riley would be on the call too, the first time I’d seen him since that night. I just hoped my pokerface was good enough to move on past any awkwardness.

“Let me get your thoughts on this,” Harry sits down across from me with a yoghurt. He’d just come from the gym and seeing him shirtless now was just another Thursday afternoon.

He’d taken to using me as a soundboard lately which started out interesting and got old quickly. He loved to hear himself talk, I’ve concluded. And I was forced to listen. And he always lied. He never wanted my thoughts on anything, just an ego stroke.

And just like usual he launches into a song he’s working on and something about string progression and inversion. I nod along until my phone rings and I pick it up instantly.

Graham and I speak about the details of event and I reassure him everything would run smoothly. When I’m done Harry’s nearly done the smoothie he grabbed while I was on the phone.

“Austria tomorrow, everything’s prepped?”

“Yep, for you.”

“Not for you?”

“I have the rest of the week off?” I remind him just like I’d been doing for the last two weeks. So this wouldn’t happen.

“You do? I thought that was next week. What am I gonna do without you there it’s 4 days.”

“I reckon you’ll survive,” I say with a light tone but I’ve learned the art of backhanded jokes. It felt like the only way to get some of my aggression out. “Plus Riley’s joining you Saturday afternoon.”

“So I’ll be alone on Friday?”

I look up from my laptop, “Are you ever really alone?”

“I guess I’ll just have to invite one of my girls to keep me company,” he continues watching me. “Keep my bed warm.”

“If you’d like,” I hated when he tried to make me uncomfortable. “Let me know which one and I can cut her a ticket.”

He clenches his jaw and levels me with an irritated look. “I’m sure Vienna has many beautiful people to choose from.”

Ignore ignore ignore. I go back to my screen and leave him on heard.

***

“It’s been too long,” Gray clinks his glass with mine. It’s Friday night and we’re having an early anniversary celebration.

This whole weekend I promised Gray I would be his from Friday though Sunday even though our actual anniversary was on Monday.

Our relationship that was once so strong, supportive, and loving had started treading rocky grounds. I felt jostled and very close to being kicked right off the ride altogether.

I look at my fiancé’s face, his dark features and serious looks made him look intimidating but a flicker of his smile and you felt like you were on the ins with him about something. I had missed him.

The last time we did anything together was at the beginning of summer. I had a long weekend off and he’d driven us to lake district, soaking in the sun and hiking along the peaks. We’d had a serious conversation about our relationship but a lot of it had felt like me apologizing and him accusing.

“You look radiant,” Gray reaches for my hand. “How are you?”

I didn’t think he wanted the real answer. I hold back a sigh and replace it with a smile, “Alright. Better now to be with you.”

He kisses the back of my hand and my stomach flutters. “Me too. I’m excited for this weekend.”

“Let’s see we’re seeing friends tomorrow for brunch, then doing old school movies and dinner in the evening.”

“That was one of our first dates don’t make fun.”

“I’m not! It’s a classic I’m excited. It’s been so long since I saw a movie with you.”

With Harry, I’d seen a few. I was always told to tag along on premieres Riley passed on.

“And Sunday we’re just being lazy bed bugs.”

“Mmm that sounds amazing.” I could use a day in bed. A week in bed would be even better.

The night is perfect and romantic and it soothes the heartache I’d been carrying, the guilt that I was killing my relationship. Gray is attentive and we laugh like we always did.

I don’t mention work. It makes me anxious knowing I had to put the biggest part of my life on mute in order to keep the good vibes going with Gray.

Saturday brunch brings me back to life. I’d missed our friends and catching up on their lives, all the chatter and the laughter. Gray keeps reaching for me at the table and I feel like I belong.

“So how’s the tyrant?” My friends had started calling Harry that since he always kept me from most of our social outings.

“The usual,” I try to keep it short for Gray’s sake.

“Grayson was complaining that you spend more time with him than your actual fiancé!”

“Is that so?” I turn to Gray with a teasing expression but he’s serious.

“I wouldn’t have helped her with the job if I knew,” Gray jokes when I nudge him. The table laughs but I fake it, knowing the kernel of truth in it.

“He can’t be all that bad?” Another friend asks.

“Nope. Pretty consistently bad,” I tell them. “I’m just telling myself it’s vital experience. It’s the only thing that helps me sleep.”

“When she sleeps at all,” Gray slips in another passive joke and I try to distance myself from it.

“Just wait, in a couple years I’ll be living my best life.” I raise my glass.

“To y/n’s best life,” the table cheers.

On the walk home from brunch Gray and I swing hands in between us. I want to bring up his passive comments but it feels stuck in my throat. His hand feels like lead in mine.

“Gray-“

“I’m sorry. I got a bit salty at brunch,” Gray admits. I nearly deflate completely with the sigh that comes out of me.

“That’s okay,” I kiss his cheek. His hand feels like an extension of mine again. “I know there’s a lot of things we don’t talk about, I know my job doesn’t make you happy. But I appreciate that you still support me and keep the peace even when I can be a bit of a dick sometimes.”

“Hey,” Gray stops and tugs me to him. “I love you. Nothing changes that.”

“I love you too,” he kisses me with the same passion he did last night, our first intimate night after a couple months. With the urgency in his kiss I can tell it wouldn’t be another couple until the next.

***

We get back in around 8 and I happily kick off the dress and boots I wore to dinner to snuggle in my pjs. I watch Gray remove his contacts as I comb through my hair.

“I still can’t believe that ending,” Gray says to me in the mirror.

“Same, I feel like everyone’s kept it so hush I didn’t even know there was going to be a plot twist!”

“I kind of saw it coming-“

“You did not!” I flick Gray. “Why do guys love to brag about seeing a movie ending coming.”

“It’s our roman empire,” he grins.

“You’re using that in the wrong context,” I roll my eyes. “Josie would be so disappointed. Oh I didn’t even turn my phone back on after the movie, Josie had texted me something.”

“Just leave it,” Gray calls out as I go back into the room to get my purse. “Let’s keep our phones off, stay unplugged tonight.”

“Too late,” I grin as my phone powers on already.

I know Gray stayed nervous about any call I got during our down time because he always thought it was Harry. To be honest I was surprised he hadn’t bothered me more than asking for a password yesterday.

As my services connect my phone vibrates with a dozen oncoming messages.

“Y/n,” I hear Grayson say in warning but my eyes stay glued to the screen that flicker with notifications.

I look up once they settle, my eyes are as wide as saucers and Gray’s watch me through the mirror, heavy and resigned.

“Please, ignore it,” Gray pleads just once.

“I just…I need to know what it’s about.” I plead back.

“It’s going to spiral,” he warns. “You can’t just look y/n you’re gonna get involved.”

“What if it’s an emergency? He wouldn’t message like this unless it’s an emergency!”

“Like the documents on Josie’s birthday? Or the hospital appointment that one bank holiday? Or his empty fridge on-“

“I get it. But Gray I have 14 notifications. And it’s from his manager too it’s gotta be an-“

“You have a life y/n!” Gray turns around quick like a pistol whip, I stumble back into the doorframe. “He has other people in his life other than you they can figure it out! Why do you keep putting your job, this man, before me? Before us?!”

“I’m not trying to! I’m not!” I stutter.

“What’s the worst case scenario huh? He tries you, and you don’t answer because you’re off. And he’ll find someone else to help—those type always have someone else.”

“You don’t get it-“

“I get it.” Gray lowers his volume. He looks around for his glasses and slides them on. “I get it clearly. You’re just scared you’re replaceable to Harry Styles.”

His words stun me a little. All I can do is watch as he puts on jeans and grabs his phone.

“Do you ever wonder who else in your life’s replaceable?” Gray says before he slams our door shut.

I sink back and my mind races with everything Grayson just said. I was awful, he must feel even more awful and I-

My phone vibrates. Jeff.

“H-hi?” I answer.

“What the fuck y/n! I’ve been trying to reach you for the last 2 hours-“

“My phone was off-“

“Have you even gotten any of the messages we’ve left you-“

“I’m not working today-“

“Obviously,” He cuts me off for the hundredth time. “Harry’s in Vienna alone with god knows who!”

I don’t point out the contradiction in his sentence.

“Isn’t Riley supposed to be with him?”

“Riley quit.”

“What?! When?”

“Today. Apparently the sneak’s been cozying up with one of Harry’s supposed friends. He’s left us high and dry!”

“Is that why you’re calling me?” My confusion grows.

“Jesus no. Just look at your bloody messages.”

I put him on speaker and check the link to the photos he sent me. I gasp.

Harry looks a mess, one in a bar and another right outside it. With a questionable choice of friends.

“He’s not answering his phone,” Jeff continues. “Nobody can reach him and Riley decided to courier the stupid phone back to the penthouse so we don’t have access to his gps. But you do. That’s why I’m trying to reach you y/n. You’ve gotta go there and get him home.”

“Get him home? He’s in another country!”

“Yes, for that niche fucking awards show. You gotta get him back to his hotel and sober him up. We paid some fucker way too much money not to leak these photos and I don’t want to find out some other fucker took more.”

“Isn’t this something his publicist should be doing? Or you?” I’m starting to get angry. Why was Harry like a big fucking toddler that I had to go get when he was misbehaving. “I took the weekend off-“

“Listen. Y/n. We will pay you 5 times your rate if you just get on a plane and sort him out. I’m in Iceland right now. On holiday! Nobody is paying me 5 times the amount to deal with this and I don’t get back to the UK until tomorrow.”

“His publicis-“

“And Graham is the one that caught all this but he doesn’t fly out until tomorrow. So that leaves you. Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

I think about Gray, should I call him? Let him know? Fuck. Fuck Harry and his ability to ruin my whole life.

“I don’t have a choice here do I?” I ask wearily.

“Sure you do, one gets you a nice pay check. The other doesn’t.”

“Fuck,” I swear just loud enough for him to hear. “Do you know when the next flight is.”

“There’s a private jet that can leave within the hour I’ll text you the address can you make it?”

I map it. 30 or so minutes away. I look around my room—I had my emergency duffle with my passport the Harry Survival Guide told me to keep so I didn’t need to pack much.

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

***

“Out of all the fucking nights,” I swear as I take the elevator down. The flight had been under 2 hours and I’d kept my eyes glued to Harry’s phone locator. He’d moved one location so far. The hotel wasn’t too far from this location so I drop my bags off on the en-suite and head out into the beautiful city.

It’s buzzing despite the hour and I wish it was a calmer trip so I could take pictures and soak in the beauty of Vienna.

Instead I trudge on to the little dot on my phone and avoid thinking about Gray and how much he would love this city. And how badly I betrayed him tonight.

What to do when he won’t answer the phone: track his gps, get good at lock-picking and don’t be shy to call whoever he’s out with to get ahold of him. Harry not answering his phone unexpectedly usually means bad decisions.

I find Harry in a kitschy club but it’s not easy. In the flashes of blue and purple lights I sort through all the men about the same height as him. None of them are him.

I knew he was here. I scan the room a second time, he had to be in one of the private sections.

I walk the perimeter until I see a flash of a familiar laugh.

“Harry!” I shout but a man in a suit steps in front of me.

“Private area,” he says in a rough accent.

“I’m his assistant I need to see him!” I point to Harry but he just steps in my way again. I shout Harry’s name and on the second try he looks up.

“Heyy!” He lights up and picks his way over the people sitting around him. He loops his arm around the brick wall in front of me. “That’s y/n! Y/n you came let her in!”

��Thank you,” I shoot the man a dirty look even though I knew he was just doing his job. He was the difference between a PR disaster and no disaster. “Harry we-“

“Have a drink!” He slurs. My heart quickens when I get a glimpse of the table with an assortment of drugs all over it. “Relax. C’mon c’mon!”

Harry pours me champagne and leads me by the hand to where he was just sitting. A couple shift away to make room for me but I stay standing as Harry sinks into the cushion.

“Mr. Styles we-“

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Harry says seriously before bursting into laughter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this uninhibited before. One part of me is nervous and another part finds it intriguing.

He tugs me down and I tip into the couch, the champagne sloshing over the rim. What the-

“Relax,” he whispers into my ear. It goes straight to my stomach. “Have some champagne and enjoy the night!”

“I want to-“

“Your fiancé won’t let you drink with me? Is that the issue here?”

“No,” I bite. “I am taking you back-“

“I,” Harry sits up and hovers over me. “I am not speaking to you until you drink! Good god woman, lean back! Relax! What do Americans say take a chill pill?”

“I don’t need a chill pill.”

Harry mimes zipping his lips closed.

I roll my eyes and bring the champagne to my lips to take a mock sip but he must anticipate this. Using his finger he tips the glass even further. Half of it drips down my chin.

“Agh!” I jerk the glass away but Harry just laughs. “This is so not funny.”

He leans in smiling. I expect him to stop but he continues moving into me until his lips are on my jaw. His mouth coasts over my skin before he buries his head in my neck where the champagne had dripped down leaving a pool of heat-

“Harry!” I jerk away and push my hands into his chest to prop him up. His eyes are half-closed but as intense as ever as he looks into mine.

What the fuck. What the fuck just happened.

My hands are shaking, steady only because of the force of Harry pressing into them. I feel the tears springing to my eyes, why the fuck did he just…

“Sorry,” he smiles, his finger brushing my cheek. “Y’had some champagne there.”

It was nothing, I tell myself. He’s drunk and taken god knows what. He’s out of his mind. And he was going for the champagne, not me.

I loosen my arms but he comes back towards me again.

“Fuck this,” I mutter. I push him back into the sofa and get up. “We are going back to the hotel. Now.”

“Just stay a little longer here. It’s life. I’m bloody famous!” His hands come around my waist to pull me towards him but I dig my heel in.

I grab him by the shirt and haul his lanky body up, it’s like lifting a slab of marble. We nearly fall into the table but I catch us on my back leg in time.

I get us outside and call a taxi. Harry sways into me and I help keep him up.

“S’cold,” he complains.

“It’s really not.” I look back to him but he doesn’t look good. I lean him against the wall gently. “Harry look at me.”

He eyes stay closed but his head bobbles and he starts to tip forward again.

“Harry!” I nearly slap him. Instead I push him against the wall and use my body to keep him propped upright. I grab his face in my hands. “Harry look at me you’re scaring me.”

“You’re scaring me,” he slurs.

I shake his face a bit and try to pry open an eye which makes him laugh.

“I was alone,” he mumbles.

“I am not carrying you into or out of that car so you better stay conscious.” I tap his cheek.

“You’re no fun.” He says and I ignore him. “I was alone but you came.”

“Not out of any choice,” I mumble.

Our taxi arrives and I’m shaking him every few minutes to keep him conscious. At the hotel I get some help to his room when they recognize his face.

I drop him in bed with a sigh of relief. He looked pathetic like that. And I wanted to cry out of frustration.

I take his shoes off and then his shirt, deciding to keep his trousers on. I leave a bottle of water on his bedside with painkillers and head to the bathroom. For the second time tonight I get ready for bed.

I scrub the sticky champagne out of my neck and block out the feeling of his lips on me. Block out the confusing feelings that arose.

I grab my phone and pray for a text from Gray but there’s nothing. I update Jeff and he sends me a thumbs up. All that and just a fucking thumbs up.

***

Still no text from Gray the next morning.

Harry’s still in bed when I get up. I crack on and order both of us breakfast, ordering the most expensive things just to get something out of being here.

Harry wakes to the smell of coffee, groaning as soon as he sits up. I don’t know what he took last night but it serves him right.

“Y/n?” He sounds just as confused as last night.

“In the flesh,” I nearly growl.

“I thought Riley’s s’pose to be here?”

“So you do remember I’m supposed to be off all weekend.” I can’t hold back on the sass. I’m too mad at everyone.

“Yeah…what?”

“Riley quit.”

“Riley…quit? That’s why you’re here?”

“No.” I want to throw my cup of coffee in his face. “I’m here because you weren’t answering your phone last night and the only updates we were getting were compromising pictures of you absolutely pissed.”

“You sound like my publicist.”

“Your publicist had to pay the photographer off.”

“It couldn’t be that bad,” Harry swings his legs over the side of the bed and winces. He notices the painkillers and pops them. “Did you undress me?”

I pull the photos up on my phone and show them to him. He throws the phone down on the bed after a glance.

“Okay so he sent you to get me back to the hotel?”

“Jeff called me.”

“Jeff’s on holiday.”

“So was I.” My anger brews over. “I had 2 fucking days off Harry and I couldn’t even get that! You had to go to Vienna and get pappd doing the stupidest shit and of course I have to come in and save your ass because I can’t get any time these days to just be!”

He groans as he gets up and shuffles towards me. My heart picks up speed but he simply reaches for the coffee and takes a big gulp. The silence stretches out after my outburst and I wait with an anxious anger for what comes out of his mouth.

“You didn’t have to come. I could have lived with the consequences of being an idiot last night-“

“Jeff didn’t give me a choic-“

“There’s always a choice,” he holds up his finger to my face, hovering an inch from my lips. “Jeff can’t do shite. If he fired you he needs my final say. So again, I didn’t ask you to come here.”

Fuck him, I think. Does he really think I could have said no and gone on with my night? Since it didn’t come out of his mouth, he vanishes any accountability? He’d totally at fault here.

“Secondly,” he wasn’t finished I guess and his eyes are like laser beams into my soul. “It’s Mr. Styles.”

Anything I was about to mouth off on disappears. Like a sinkhole it all collapses below the surface and I’m left feeling as I always did—humiliated.

“Now,” Harry puts his cup down. “That’s not to say thank you for coming to my rescue yesterday. I don’t remember a lot of it so I’m not sure what happened but I’m sure it wasn’t pretty.”

I don’t answer. I bite my tongue until it falls right off and I can swallow it. I wish I could also swallow the memory of his lips that spring to mind.

“It is a Sunday, if you’d like to take it off feel free. The stylist team is coming around 4 to get me ready for tonight.”

“Well, you’ll need me to coordinate this evening since that was the point of Riley being here,” my voice comes out smoother than I felt.

“Ok,” he dismisses me. “I need a shower.”

He leaves and I clench my fists to keep from throwing everything within range at him. How could he flip the script like this? Turn my life upside down and then act like he did nothing wrong?

I go to my phone and hover over Grayson to call him but i have a notification from him. He’s sent me a message, it’s a link.

I click it. It’s a small article in a tabloid about Harry Styles and his mystery woman. You can’t tell it’s me but our pose looks intimate from last night—him leaning against the wall with my knee in between his legs and my body propping him up while my hands hold his face.

But Grayson knows its me.

I get my other phone and message it in the group with Harry’s publicist.

He responds casually: It’ll blow over don’t worry. Can’t see your face plus romantic is better than looking fucked up like the other pics.

It would blow over for Harry but not for me.

I try to call Grayson but he doesn’t pick up.

I close the room door and bury myself in bed, aching so hard it was hard to believe I was still breathing. It felt like an end, I know I could talk it through with Grayson and explain once he saw the other photos. But something feels like it died tonight.

***

“Y/n?” A voice sings outside my door. “Helloo?”

I feel hungover as I open my crusty eyes. I’m in an unfamiliar room and-

“Hello hello?”

I sit up. I was in a hotel suite and I had to help get Harry to his show. Shit.

I look at the time, it’s nearly 5.

“Sorry!” I shout at whoever was behind the door. “Sorry one sec!”

One look in the mirror and I know I had to throw my hair up. I swish some mouthwash around and exit to the lounge.

“Hi,” a woman I’ve never met smiles kindly at me.

“Sorry. Did you need something from me?”

“Yes,” she takes my arm and leads me towards where Harry was getting his hair done. He looks amused as he watches me. “I need you here. We need to get you ready.”

“Oh no,” I say but sit where I’m told by this commanding woman. “Oh I’m just helping coordinate so you just focus on Mr.-“

“Y/n,” Harry’s deep voice cuts me off. “Riley comes with me to these things when Jeff isn’t around. Since neither are here you’re joining me and Graham.”

I look for his publicist but I’m told he was running late. Great.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” I say as the woman takes a wet wipe to my face. “I thought I had Sunday off.”

“You reminded me you’re replacing Riley,” Harry says. “And I got the team to get you a few things but I don’t know your size. I’m sure one of them will fit. Kit can tailor it if you need.”

“Wha…” my face is positioned to the side and cream is dotted all over. I shut my mouth and glance at Harry which becomes a glare when I realize he’s enjoying this.

“Lighten up Y/N, it’s not the end of the world.”

He didn’t know. It was the end of my world.

***

The red carpet or whatever this imitation of it was is a sensory nightmare. Graham had explained on the car over I was to stick to the shadows with him and his security detail. I don’t know why they stuck me in this beautifully tailored pantsuit just to be in the shadows. But apparently I could keep it so I was happy about that.

While Harry gets his name shouted and photos taken I watch from the side, hiding behind Graham’s shoulder so I don’t get caught in any pictures. The flashes still make my head hurt.

Again, we stand off to the side as Harry gets interviewed by labels I recognized and others that must be local. One woman has the nerve to ask,

“So Harry the whole internet is dying to know who your mystery woman is. Would you like to give our viewers a hint?”

I stiffen and Graham glances my way with a warning look. He’d already prepped Harry in the car but I couldn’t believe someone would be so bold as to ask. But that was show business.

“Ah you know what the media’s like, all out of context. I love the theories especially the one about this being my secret fiancé but I would like the viewers to know I’m not engaged, very much single, and not to believe everything you see online.”

I hold my breath as Harry answers but he’s a natural, I had to admit. He went off script a little—he wasn’t supposed to acknowledge the content of the photo, but he did so with grace and humour. Wow. I could learn a few things.

Graham relaxes beside me once the reporter laughs and asks if he sees himself not being single any time soon. When we finally move on Graham wraps his arm around Harry’s shoulder and gives it a shake.

“You did good kid,” he kisses his cheek with all the leftover adrenaline from the carpet. “I’ll see you in there. I see some friends I want to catch up with first.”

Then it’s just Harry and I, and his shadow of a security detail who Harry dismisses while he’s inside the room.

“So I guess now’s the part you go to your seat?” I ask. There was no What to do at an Awards Show so I was clueless and I decided I would create one myself to keep the legacy of all these dos and don’ts.

“It is,” Harry looks…nervous? His eyes flicker around the room and his jaw twitches. I do a sweep of my own, there’s a lot of people I don’t recognize and those I do I’m just about dying trying to stay casual.

“I thought that reporter was going to propose after you cleared up how single you were.”

“Hm?” Harry looks at me—in heels I was finally near eye-level to him. His gaze clears as he takes in what I said and I consider it a win getting him back down to earth. “Oh. Her, yeah she was cheeky with those questions wasn’t she?”

His smile makes me stomach dip. “Yeah she slipped them in so expertly. I thought ‘I have to take some tips from her’. And you, you were good dodging the question.”

“I didn’t lie,” Harry’s now fully engaged in our conversation. I give myself a pat on the back. “It was just you and I am still single.”

Just you. I fake a laugh, “Yeah. That photo is proof that I’m stronger than I look because you were deadweight and I managed to get you to bed y’know that.”

His green eyes flicker up and down my face for a beat. “I know that. I…hope that picture didn’t get you into any trouble.”

I look away, unsure how to answer. He brings a hand to my arm. “I can talk to someone if it helps?”

“Oh no,” my cheeks flush. “No I don’t think that would make anything better but thank you. I…appreciate the-“

“Harry? Oh my god it’s you!”

I retreat in a quarter of a second, invisible once again for Harry to shine with his colleagues. It’s a singer I recognize but I only remember her stage name, Dragon something. I watch them embrace and I try to wind up the spool of thread I’d released when Harry showed some kindness.

I think I had some issues, I became unrecognizable every time Harry was nice for a moment. I had to remember that it was temporary and there were boundaries I couldn’t cross.

Yesterday flashes into my mind. God, was it just yesterday?

Harry starts walking with the other musician arm in arm. It comes to me as I follow why I knew her. There were rumours shortly before I interviewed with Harry about seeing him on the town with this woman. So they had history. Of course.

By the time Graham joins me in our seats I’ve become part of the wallpaper and I feel like I’m being torn away when he acknowledges me to ask if everything had gone ok. I stay invisible for the rest of the evening and I try to remember that’s how it would be.

***

We’re sat on the tarmac for the ride home and I try to refresh my messages over and over but Gray hasn’t responded after I’d told him we had to talk. He was stupidly good at the cold shoulder and I felt like a needy bitch whenever he got like this.

“Could I get a water y/n?” Harry asks from across the aisle. He has his head tipped back and he looks awful—consequences of an after party where he drank himself silly again and relied on me to get him home. I did make friends with some other PAs who were roped to the party so that was the only highlight.

“Sure.” I go to the front of the jet where Graham is typing away on his laptop, oblivious to the rest of us. I grab Harry a coffee too. “It’ll help with the hangover.”

Harry accepts it graciously and I go back to refreshing my phone.

I thought he’d fallen asleep an hour into the flight until he unbuckles his seat and slips in beside me.

“Can I get your phone?” He holds his hand out.

“Why?” I ask suspiciously.

“You’re driving me crazy refreshing that thing it’s like you’re getting paid per refresh.”

I was lost in a trance doing it. I put the phone facedown on my lap but he takes it from me.

“Hey-“

“I’m keeping this until we land. I promise you if you haven’t gotten any messages by now you won’t get any at all.”

His patronizing tone wriggles something loose and I have to look away, out the window, so he doesn’t see the tears.

“My offer still stands,” he says quietly after my silence. I shake my head.

“Thanks,” my voice wavers. “It won’t help. He just gets…quiet. Any time there’s an issue he just goes quiet and it drives me f…crazy. I feel crazy.”

“You kind of look it.” I’m ready to throw him a dirty look but Harry’s smiling when I look at him. I was rarely on the receiving end of such a handsome look that I forget I was going to be mad. “What? You do, hunched over your phone pressing down over and over. My neck hurts just looking at you.”

I sigh and leans back into the seat, trying to straighten myself out.

“Sorry,” I sniffle. “I just need some sort of proof of life from him. He knows it drives me crazy when he ignores me but he does it anyway. He could be dead for all I know. Anyway, I’ll stop now you can give me my phone back.”

“Mmm no,” Harry pats the pocket he put it in. “You listen to me. It stays here.”

I don’t fight him. It was for my own good.

He sits with me for the rest of the flight. It should be uncomfortable but having another person’s presence beside me—knowing there was a shoulder pressing against mine, makes me feel a little less lonely today.

He probably didn’t intend that, I rethink the thought. Harry wasn’t thoughtful like that, he was probably just too lazy to move back.

We take the car home when we land but Harry tells me to take the rest of the Monday off even though it was already 2.

“And y/n,” Harry stops me before I exit the car where it stalls outside my complex.

“Yes?” I wait for the other shoe to drop—I had the day off but…

“If he knows it drives you crazy, and he truly loves you, he should respect you and give you a chance to talk. You deserve that.”

My breath catches at the unexpected words. I feel my defences go up.

“You’ll work it out,” he rushes on when I don’t respond.

I’m left feeling slightly reassured and mostly confused.

“Thank you,” I look at him a beat too long and it feels awkward so I scramble out and head up. To someone I hope was willing to listen like Harry said.

***

Like a baby calf out of the womb, my relationship stays on shaky grounds. It feels like building a foundation all over again after thinking that was already done with, but Hurricane Harry had caused a lot of damage.

Now 9 months into my new job I wasn’t always so on edge. But I was busy.

With no Riley, the team had decided to hold off on hiring anyone new and my work load had tripled. I’d brought it up casually and just as casually Harry had let me know I would be compensated.

I thought about Vienna a lot. Things were done and said there that should change our dynamic but didn’t. Not much. Harry was still an ass, he still demanded most of my time, and I still suffered from major anxiety about my life falling apart.

So maybe I was still on edge, just about different things.

“G’morning,” Gray whispers to me. I wanted to sleep in and cuddle with my fiancé but I’d already snoozed my alarm and I knew I had to get to work. I had errands to run all over town.

“Morning,” I burrow my head into his warm body. “I don’t wanna work.”

He kisses the top of my head. “How about I join you on some of those errands you mentioned? We can get coffee?”

I’m suddenly excited about going to work.

Gray laughs when I climb over him and kiss him like a lunatic, and we’ve been together too long to be embarrassed about morning breath or pillow face. I can’t believe I almost lost him.

The day is perfect as Gray and I move around town doing odd bits. We get to grab lunch together and I’m so glad what a good sport Gray had been about it all since I’d forced him to carry any heavy items.

“I’ll see you for dinner,” Gray drops me off at Harry’s. We linger in the lobby for a few minutes. “I’m cooking.”

“Mmm can’t wait,” I kiss him before taking the load from him. “Thank you for coming with me today.”

“I had fun, I hate to admit it.” He grins as I walk backwards to the elevator. He takes my breath away.

Grayson’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something but I collide into a body behind me before he can warn me.

“Oh shit sorry I-“ I turn and Harry stands behind me with Jeff walking off the elevator. He was probably headed to the studio and I was late. Dammnit!

“Y/N,” Harry says.

“I’m so. Sorry,” I look between Gray, Jeff, and Harry. Do I introduce everyone? Do I apologize and rush to drop these things off so I could join them like I’m supposed to?

Jeff makes it easy, walking away on his phone. Then it’s Harry and Gray.

“I’m sorry I meant to be upstairs five minutes ago.” I tell Harry who’s expression is hard to read. “Uhm…this is Grayson my fiance I don’t think y’all have met he was just dropping me off since I had my hands full. Um. Gray this is…well you know who this is I-“

My blabbering is cut short as Harry steps forward to shake hands and I nearly die at the steely look Gray gives him. Also, why the fuck did I say y’all?! I wasn’t even southern.

“Grayson Duran yeah? Nice to meet you,” Harry says. I’m surprised he knows his full name. He must have asked his friends.

“Yeah,” Gray drops his hand. “The infamous Harry Styles—I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise,” Harry says, glancing at me. Why would he say that. “As much as I’d love to chat, y/n you’re late and we’re heading to the studio. Can you give all that to the concierge?”

“Yes,” I nod. “Have you got-“

“I grabbed my things yes. I’ll see you in the car.”

Harry nods to Gray and leaves an air of cologne and annoyance behind. Gray and I lock eyes and I burn with embarrassment.

“What a dick,” Gray mumbles.

I’m offended, wait, why am I offended? It’s not like Harry wasn’t a dick.

“Yeah, I gotta go sorry babe.” I rush to the concierge and explain the delivery.

“Y’all?” Gray asks when I rush back to him.

“I know I know,” I cringe. “It just came out. I gotta go but thank you so much for today. Loveyoubye!”

I give him a quick peck and rush out, nearly collapsing into Harry’s car.

“Sorry about that, being late. That won’t happen again I meant to be there before you left-“

“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” Harry says stiffly, staring out the window. He was a dick, Gray was right. But why was I so offended at him saying that right after meeting him?

Things felt so confusing these days and I just wanted time to catch my breath and figure things out. A few more weeks and I’d get some time off for the holidays at least, I was looking forward to that.

***

Even though I planned the intimate holiday party and spent countless hours on the phone making sure every detail would be perfect I can’t help but criticize it as I join.

“Maybe I should have gone with a live band,” I mutter as someone takes mine and Grayson’s coats. Tonight I was supposed to shut my brain off as Harry said, and enjoy the party as a guest. But that part was hard to shut off after nearly 10 months of re-wiring it.

Grayson was tough to convince but finally he’d agreed to come to the party. Things were mostly back to normal with us. I tried to be home by 7 most nights and didn’t talk about work too much.

But sometimes it felt like a volcano lived inside me with how much I had to compartmentalize and keep in and when times got really tough, I wanted to spew everywhere.

“Josie told me your mom’s doing bohemian Christmas?” I ask Gray as we hover by the foyer. I’d just had a catchup with her yesterday now that she was finished exams. “Do you know what that means.”

“Mum’s crazy,” Gray sighs. His relationship with her was always followed by a sigh, an eye roll, a heavy resignation for who she was. I never quite understood it.

Josie, on the other hand, loved their loud and free-spirited mother. As for me, I thought she was the most interesting woman I ever met and we’d gotten along instantly.

“She’s always got some new idea up her sleeve,” I try to make things more positive. “What do you want a bet it’s going to be vegan?”

“I don’t bet when I know that’s what she’s serving. That’s why we do dad’s for lunch and hers for dinner. We’re too stuffed once we get there to care what she’s serving.”

“Remember when I tried to get you to go vegan and-“

“Y/N! Hi,” I’m interrupted by a friendly face in the crowd and end up chatting with people I’d worked with the last few months. We introduce our partners and they chat but I keep an eye on Grayson, in case anything changes.

I watch Harry’s friends trickle in and Gray lights up when he sees Liam and a few other people he trained.

I flit around the room with ease after that, knowing Gray had friends to keep him company. I make sure drinks are filled and catering is setting up. Until a hand stops me.

“You’re not supposed to be working tonight,” Harry reminds me.

“Yes. Right. Well…”

“Y/N,” he warns.

“Okay!” I throw my hands up. “Not working, here look I’m enjoying myself!”

I pick up a random drink and take a big sip. Champagne. Suddenly I remember the last time I drank champagne in front of Harry and I nearly cough it back up.

“Ugh,” Harry hands me a napkin and I try not to bristle. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “Yeah sorry just…just not a fan of champagne.”

We lock eyes and I’m gripped with the sudden and very real possibility that Harry may actually remember parts of that night.

When his eyes flicker down to my neck, it’s confirmed. Oh god.

“Well! I’m off to find a better drink!” I turn too quickly, nearly taking out the caterer who was setting up hors d’œuvres on the table. “Sorry!”

Oh my god. Harry remembered.

Did he remember this whole time? Was he pretending to forget that night? Did he ever remember the moment randomly in my presence like I did?

I had to stop freaking out. It had been months!

Where was Grayson.

I locate my fiancé in a random group but his eyes are already on me. I raise a hand and he smiles, raising a finger to tell me he’d be there in a moment.

My mind races in the meantime, wondering if I should mention the incident to Harry and tell him I was fine. Or maybe that proved the opposite. No. I should just keep it unspoken like we had this whole time. Oh my god!

“Quite a turnout,” Grayson comes back to me. Two drinks in his hand. “I saw you talking to Harry why did you look so scared? Did he say something?”

“Oh!” Of course Gray saw. “No. I just…almost choked on my champagne the fizz y’know? And then I didn’t want to make a scene so I left.”

“Hm,” Gray wraps his hand around my waist. “Hey I see a mistletoe I’m going to nudge you in that direction.”

“You don’t need a mistletoe to kiss me babe.”

“It’s supposed to be romantic.”

I let him lead me to it and he kisses me with a knee-bending passion.

“Woah,” I feel dazed when we finally part. “That was fucking romantic.”

“Yeah?” He grins.

“Excuse me!” Harry’s voice rings over the crowd and the room hushes slowly. “Uh hiya! Thank you all for coming tonight and making me feel like I have friends during the holidays.”

A quiet laugh rumbles over the crowd. Harry looks magnetic on his makeshift podium, he’s in a cozy red sweater that I know cost more than my month’s salary and a collar peeks out from under it. He’s got on navy slacks and tinsel thrown over his shoulder. I’d bought that sweater, I remember. But he managed to pull the rest of the outfit together well.

“…a few people.” He continues. I’d zoned out. “My manager Jeff of course—this year has been a roller coaster and you’ve managed it all. Charlie, Claire, Niji, Elin, Sarah, and Mitch. We had a ball playing our hidden shows this fall but we have so much planned for the year ahead. I’m beyond grateful that you all came into my life and we get to make music together!”

A few whoops in the crowd and the people he mention raise their hands and shout out their own praises to Harry.

Harry thanks a few more people and says some more kind words. I don’t expect him to zero in on me.

“Last, but not least folks, I want to thank somebody who joined my team this year. She’s seen a lot—she’s been in the trenches my friends, she has. But she’s stuck with me. She’s planned everything tonight so really you’re all here because of her. Y/N, please make yourself known and everyone should give her a thank you if you talk to her tonight for tonight.”

Oh god. I am as bright as Harry’s sweater and with every single eye turning on me I’m sure I also turn every shade of the rainbow. I paste on a grin that feels like I’m the Joker and hope it looks normal.

I wave awkwardly and make eyes with Harry across the room who looks like he’s having a ball putting me in the centre of everyone’s attention. I was really going to wring his neck but he winks at me and finally turns the attention back to him with a few closing words, then starting the music and food.

“Am I alive?” I ask Gray beside me whose hand had dropped from my waist during the last few minutes. “I think I died of embarrassment and turned into the ghost of Christmas’ present.”

I turn to Gray and he looks around me. “Hello? Is someone talking to me?”

“Gray!” I push his shoulder and he laughs. “I hated every second of that.”

“I know,” Gray laughs again. “You hate attention.”

“I do! I swear Harry was up there gloating didn’t you notice? Ugh I hate him.”

Gray’s expression shutters for a second. “Yeah, he definitely knew what he was doing.”

“Y/N, quite a shoutout.” A voice says from my right. It’s Liam who I hadn’t seen myself in ages. I go in for a hug and hope my embarrassment clears away as we catch up.

As the night goes on I ease up a little, enjoy the mingling and the drinks. Especially the drinks. The evening’s embarrassment and everyone coming up to me knowing my name was hell so I drink to keep up the liquid courage.

Coming out of the toilets for the tenth time that night with all the drinks I was downing, I notice a light on in the room.

I go to it, in case it was a guest in a place they shouldn’t be.

I don’t spot him at first, flicking off the lights only to see a shadow move. Harry.

“Oh! It’s you. Is everything alright?” I lean in the doorway. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in this office actually. He always hovered outside it like I was now.

“Yeah yeah, just came for some air.” He walks up to me and I step out of the way so he can leave. But he stays just inside so I move back to my spot.

“Air? In the smallest room here?”

“Yeah,” he smiles like he’s been caught. “I was looking for you. We ran out of ice I just don’t remember where you stored the rest.”

“Well I’m not working remember? So I don’t know.”

“Touché. I guess the guests will just have a shite time with their lukewarm drinks.”

Ugh. He knew me too well.

“Fine. I’ll get the bag. By the way, that wasn’t funny. What you did earlier.” I put my hands on my hips, ready to give him a piece of my mind for embarrassing me.

“What!? It wasn’t meant to be funny. I’m expressing my gratitude y/n.”

“In front of a whole room of random people who are all looking at me? You know I would have hated it!”

“Let’s just say I’m trying to get you out of your shell,” Harry teases. He smells of his usual cologne, the fresh soap he used, and scotch. I spot the empty glass on my desk.

“I’m plenty out of my shell thank you. You know, you could have just said it to me privately. That would have meant more.”

His mouth opens but nothing comes out. He inhales sharply and turns around.

“What?” I ask his back.

“Nothing.” He turns back around. “You do good work y/n, people should know.”

Now it’s my turn to go quiet. I only seemed to do this when Harry was nice. Because otherwise I knew how mean he could be. Why couldn’t there just be a balance.

“Why are you so randomly nice to me?”

Oops. All those drinks made for some loose lips.

“What?” He’s taken aback.

“Yeah,” I feel fired up now that it’s out. “You ignore me half the time—not that I expect to be bffs but at least a hello now and then would be nice. Then when you do talk it’s grunts and clipped answers. You’re pretty mean to me! And suddenly out of nowhere it’s like-like this 180 and you’re really nice. And praising me in front of a crowd. What’s up with that?”

His expression retreats the more I talk and I know I’ve dug myself into a hole. Forget the whole speech just now I’m pretty sure I’ve just written my own termination notice.

“I have to be,” he says simply after an awkward pause.

“Have to?” I demand. “You have to be mean to me?”

The long deleted Dos and Dont list when I first joined flashes through my mind. Did that have something to do with it?

“Because when I spoke to Riley that one time for drinks, he told me you weren’t always this mean. So is it me? You just said to a whole crowd how helpful I am so I just don’t get why you’re so mean sometimes!”

“What else did Riley say?” Harry hangs on to that.

“I…a lot I dunno! Riley faffs a lot. He’s also a creep but that’s neither here nor there I-“

“What do you mean he’s a creep?” The room feels even smaller as he zeroes in.

“I-“ I try to stutter something to change the subject but he stays on, asking me again. “It’s nothing. He was drunk and he made a pass at me-“

“He did?! Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s zero space between the two of us now.

“Why would I? It was something that happened outside work hours, plus you warned me and I didn’t listen-“

“Y/n you should have told me,” he swears. “I let that little shite get away with way too much.”

“Yeah well he’s not the only person working here who’s made a drunken pass at me so let’s not make it a big deal okay?”

I guess I wasn’t holding back.

Harry closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. One mississippi two mississippi three-

“You’re right.”

My heart pounds in my chest. I want to get out of this room, find Gray, and stay in the light. Because this small, dimly lit space was becoming too intimate. And yet, I can’t seem to will myself to move.

“I am?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. It doesn’t cut it—what I did was incredibly wrong. Being drunk shouldn’t be an excuse and I promise I don’t go around doing that to everyone-“

“I know,” I say before thinking. It was weird of Harry to do but I never felt unsafe with him. I understood what he was trying to say.

“You can make it a big deal if you want. It shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again.”

I feel weird having the roles reversed—Harry apologizing to me. Promising not to do something again. I recognize what he’s doing is right but I don’t know what to do with myself. My breathing’s shallow with Harry so close to me, practically hovering over me. I should’ve worn higher heels to really equal the field.

“Thanks,” I finally manage. It’s low and raspy and I barely get in enough air to speak it. He doesn’t respond.

We stay in the tableau, our breathing irregular, in between a single decision that both of us knew wouldn’t end well. Yet neither of us are strong enough to end the frozen display.

“You clean up nice,” he says, eyes never leaving mine as he compliments my getup. I’d worn a simple cowl-necked slip dress and strappy shoes with my hair in an up-do. I was definitely underdressed after seeing the other guests but I believe Harry means it.

“Don’t look as haggard as I usually do, you mean?” I find my voice again. I barely have to whisper for him to hear.

“You never look haggard,” Harry says as he brings his hand up and traces the curve of my dress strap. My heartbeat was loud and surely showing through my dress.

“You should go,” Harry adds in a whisper.

My head feels like it’s filled with carbonation as I nod in agreement. This was bad. With a capital B. I had to go.

“I…should go.” I repeat. Slowly I inch sideways on the wall and Harry leans away. We stare at each other for another long moment before I scurry away, my heart in my throat and my guilt where my heart should be.

“Don’t forget the ice,” I hear Harry call out from the room. Miraculously this is exactly when Grayson turns the corner.

“Y/n? Where were you?”

“Oh I-“ I imagined I looked fucked up. Because I felt high and out of my mind. The white lie comes out, attached to a thread that unstitches something within. “I drank too much, so I was in the toilet.”

“Oh,” Gray looks relieved and I’m sinking with guilt. Technically I did nothing wrong. I didn’t even have feelings for Harry. But whatever physical magnetism he seemed to have nearly made me do something I’d seriously regret. “Did I hear someone say something about ice?”

“Yeah!” I laugh and it comes out like I had never learned how. “I just bumped into Harry, we ran out of ice. So much for not working huh?”

“At least everyone knows how hard you work,” he jokes.

I stick to Gray’s side for the rest of the night, not touching a single drop of alcohol. I had to forget everything in that room ever happened if I wanted to keep my job and my sanity. I had to be a better person, the devil was handsome and I had to stop playing into his tricks.

I call it quits a few hours later when I notice Gray low on energy.

“I’ll get our coats,” I tell him. The relief on his face is palpable.

I go through where the spare closet was but hear voices in Harry’s darkened room. The door’s open so I go to investigate. I regret it instantly.

Harry’s inside with a woman, I don’t see much of her as she’s on the bed but I know it’s Harry with the tone of his voice as they exchange words.

My stomach drops and it’s like an accident on the side of the road, I’m mortified but I can’t look away.

I watch him kiss her and I feel like I’m sinking through the floorboards.

“Oh!” The woman notices me when she turns her head and pulls the sheet up. She whispers, “you didn’t close the-“

“Oh it’s fine,” Harry laughs. He sits back on his legs and looks at me, his expression void of anything he was tonight. Like the moment in the room didn’t even happen. “It’s just y/n.”

Of course it didn’t matter to him, I scold myself. I was the one with fucked up issues that couldn’t make up my stupid mind about how I wanted to feel about this man who literally paid me to be around. Who treated me like shit most of the time. Who was nice to me sometimes and I misconstrued it to mean a whole lot more.

What was I thinking? Did I think suddenly this man who’s known to be a player had a single one-sided intense moment with me and that would change him?

I was an absolute idiot.

“Could you get the door?” Harry asks so casually, so nonchalantly, that it punches me in the chest. It was closer to some combination of humiliation and self-inflicted hurt but for now it feels like my chest aches.

“O-of course.” I shut the door and stand there, taking in deep breaths as I try not to think about everything that just happened. Tried not to think of all the million ways I was the worst girlfriend in the world. Tried not to think about the fact that I had to quit sooner than later because things were getting tangled up and it was not okay.

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TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld

I’m trying to make part 3 the last—it includes your final decisions and returning to the present to find out what happens (from the beginning of the story). Thank you, as always, for reading <3 xx

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles series #musician!harry #slow burn

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