#i loved dressing him up might do a lookbook later | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

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“Harry’s stylist, right?”

Summary: Harry and his personal stylist are great collaborators, on screen and off. She helps his visions come to life and in turn they’ve become close friends. As she helps him to bring his fashion dreams come to life during the Fine Line era, will some other dreams come to life as well?

Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump

this fit is very important to this part lmaooo - I literally have no idea what to call this lol, anyway I've been sitting on this for forever and I wanted to get something out for yall and i love this story there will be a part 2 when i get to a writing mood. I love this story bc its my literal dream - anyway!! pls enjoy and reblog and lmk what you think :)

Word Count: 14k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, tame for now, should be smut eventually - aka slow burn (what else would you expect from me at this point i guess)

part 2

“Hey, H, I just had a question about one of the SNL outfits? Do you have a sec?”

Harry looked up from his phone and raised his brows at his stylist, Y/N.

Y/N had worked with Harry previously. In photoshoots for Another Man magazine and his most recent Gucci campaign. As well as some other random times, such as one-off award show looks and specific appearances. However, this past summer Harry had hired Y/N to work fulltime for him, exclusively. He had told her that he was planning on releasing his second album in the winter and he wanted someone there to help him plan his clothes for music videos, award season, interview appearances, as well as tour outfits.

Y/N stood just inside the doorway of the room, leaning her back against the wall, looking expectantly at him. Her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed. She was dressed simply in a white satin skirt and a matching cropped button-up, they both had cream flowers embroidered on, paired with horsebit slim Gucci mules. Her style was eclectic, but she had definitely noticed an increase of Gucci in her wardrobe since starting her employment with Harry.

Y/N’s passion in life was fashion and clothes and she constantly worried that one of Harry’s outfits wouldn’t deliver as much as she wanted it to. He was quick to tell her not to worry so much though, as long as they both were happy with it, how could anyone else not love it. Plus, he’d always add, it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought. But as more and more events began to crop up, Y/N’s worry over her work grew. She had only been the head stylist for Harry on projects that were still underwraps - except for Lights Up which had been released a couple weeks ago now.

The first project she ever worked on with Harry as his full-time personal stylist was the Lights Up music video. She had never worked so closely with one person for so long on just one project. Harry was insistent in vision and came in the first day filled with ideas, what he imagined for the video's concept and how he wanted to incorporate clothes. She had been happy to make his dreams become reality.

The two of them spent hours at his house for weeks, pouring over every detail of every outfit he planned to wear. They both wanted it to be perfect. And eventually, it all came together, exactly how they had planned. All of the garments for the video took up two entire garment racks. Y/N had made Harry pose in every single outfit for polaroids that she dated and then put into a lookbook she started for him. She had told him she planned to document every outfit she styled for him and Harry had been so excited. The outfits he wore in the video were received with praise when it was finally released, and Harry and Y/N were overjoyed. There was already a party for its release, but they both were especially happy that night. Throughout the evening, Harry and Y/N would gravitate to one another and fall into side conversations about the outfits and what people had been saying. Even if Harry said it didn’t matter, he and Y/N both knew, at the end of the day, they loved when people were happy with their work.

“Sure,” he bounced to his feet, but Y/N made a hand motion telling him that he could stay seated. He settled back down as she crossed over and sat beside him on his couch.

She was at his house in London today planning his next few appearances that were promotion for the upcoming album, Saturday Night Live was next. Harry had been taking a break from their work until she had come in.

It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to be at his house, they had been working together for months now. First, it had been for his outfits in his music videos that were filmed in late summer and early fall, like Lights up, but also a few other ones. Now, it was clothing for promo appearances, interviews, and listening parties. Next, it would be tour outfits, which she had already started planning, but officially, they hadn’t started discussions yet. Harry had helped her to get a flat closer to his house in London just for her to be able to head over and help with the planning or fitting of his outfits more easily. She also was constantly traveling with him to his appearances, making sure outfits were perfect right before whatever show it was or making last minute adjustments in case either of them decided something wasn’t right.

While Harry was a big guy, his waist was far trimmer than a usual man built to his size, this meant she had to take in a lot of his trousers at the waist. As well, with his shirts and coats, she’d have to take them in or out depending on how Harry wanted the fit to be - either perfectly tight or perfectly oversized. He was particular, but she appreciated his drive for fashion and how he cared for his appearance. Before performances, she often had to take things in or out based on any body fluctuation that had occurred since the initial fitting.

She was looking at her sketchpad that held all of her notes on his clothes - which was different from the lookbook of polaroids - including patches of the actual colors and little Harry figures dressed in what he was going to wear. Right now, she had the pad opened to a page titled “SNL Opener - November 16, 2019”.

“So I was thinking with your opening monologue outfit, it might look better to have a different colored blazer? A matching yellow would be great, but if you did more of a toned down - maybe light tan or beige - blazer with gold embellishments, you’d elevate it to look sophisticated and stylish, rather than just stylish. It’d be exactly like the runway look - which I know you sometimes don’t like, but I think it’s what looks best.”

She ran her finger between two swatches of what she thought would be the better blazer color and the one Harry had originally wanted. He wet his lips and gazed at the page as he thought about what she said. Normally, she liked monochrome on him, but she thought the deep blue underneath a completely yellow suit might wash him out on the stage.

“Yeah,” he pointed to the top beige swatch, “I think I do like this better.” He paused and turned his head to Y/N, looking in her eyes before asking, “Is that all?”

��Er...no,” Y/N ran a hand over her unstyled hair, slightly fluffed by her constant musing of it. She often fiddled with it while she worked, better than biting nails she always said when confronted about her tick. After a sigh Y/N continued, “I was just on the phone with Jane from Gucci and she said that for Look 57 they could only send your technical size, for some reason they can’t custom make it. Meaning, I’ll have to tailor the whole thing to you when it arrives. Is that alright? Or do you want to choose something else?”

She flipped to a page that said “SNL WS.” Harry followed her hands and nodded realizing she was talking about the Gucci suit he wanted to wear for Watermelon Sugar. It was a watermelon’s inside red. When he had found out the suit came in that color, he had danced around the dining table for what Y/N had felt like was an hour, humming the tune of Watermelon Sugar excitedly. Finally, she had coaxed him to sit back down and get back to their other work, which was still picking out clothes.

“No, that’s fine,” Harry shook his head and used his thumb to scratch under his lips absentmindedly, “It really needs to be that color.”

She nodded, she knew what his answer was going to be, but she also knew he still liked to make the final decision.

“Alright, we’ll just have to meet for longer when everything arrives, to tailor that one. Then the rest of them should just be making sure the fit is perfect.”

She rose up from her seat and patted Harry’s shoulder, leaving him to his thoughts, as she went back to finish up the calls with Jane and the designers.

He caught her hand in his before she completely walked away, “Thank you, Y/N.” He was so grateful he had hired someone who was as driven as he was and understood his fashion sense and wanted to help enhance what he was thinking, rather than someone trying to control him or just going along with whatever he said. Neither would be productive or helpful, thankfully Y/N loved her job and cared to do things right.

She grinned before exiting, “H, you’re going to be this century’s style icon if it’s the last thing I do.” He laughed as she walked out of the room, leaning back on the couch to continue his lurking on Instagram.

One week later

“I’m here, H! I come bearing Gucci and more!” Y/N said as she shuffled through Harry’s front door, she held a deconstructed rack and a garment bag filled with heavy suits and things. Inside were Harry’s four most important outfits for SNL, some other garments for SNL, and some clothes they had talked about for his upcoming listening sessions later in the month. Y/N needed to check the fit on all of them and begin tailoring the Watermelon Sugar suit. The key Harry had given to Y/N, previously, had let her in, but she assumed he was home. He said he’d be.

When Y/N rounded the corner she found another empty room. Confused, she set down her large items and went to search for Harry. Y/N literally needed him to be here for this part. It was the only real time she actually needed to see him in person - but that was beside the point.

“H?”

She wandered through the different rooms of his home. Normally, Y/N didn’t go into the other rooms, she was always mainly in his lounge area, the dining room, and a little casual office room he had - sometimes the kitchen for water, his bedroom once. Still not finding him, she decided to venture to the furthest door, Harry’s bedroom, she remembered.

Harry groaned at the sound of a knock on his door, he rolled over in his bed. After a few moments of hearing nothing else than his groan, Y/N felt like she had to go in and check on him.

“H, it’s 12:30 and we agreed we’d meet at noon. Are you feeling alright?”

Y/N moved into the room and found a shirtless Harry surrounded by rumpled sheets, clutching at a pillow. He groaned into his pillow again in response. Her legs bent at the edge of the bed and she reached out to smooth some of his chestnut hair out of his face, “What’s wrong?”

He moved his head to allow his eyes to look at her, “‘M so tired, don’t know why. My stomach kind of hurts too…” Y/N looked at him quizzically, before running her hand over his tan forehead once more, this time checking for a fever. “You don’t have a fever. When did you go to sleep? Have you eaten anything today?” With her help, Harry moved into a seated position, head tilted back against the bedpost. He sat silent for a moment before blowing air out of his mouth. “Went to sleep kind of late for me, I guess...Haven’t eaten.”

“Ok, you’re just tired from staying up late, you old man, and you might be a little dehydrated and hungry. Listen, I’ll go make you some food if you get up and prepare yourself for the day. We need to get all your clothes fitted so that I can fix anything before next week.” Y/N was always good at getting Harry back on track when he got distracted - or even out of the station, when he wasn’t in the mood to work on something. She slid from her perch on the bed and walked to almost the edge of the room before Harry called her back.

“Can you pick out my clothes for me?” His soft, tired voice whined. “So hard...and you’ve got the best eye. Pleaseeee,” he pleaded softly.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N sighed and made her way back into his room. Crossing to the door that led to his walk-in closet, she set to work. As silly as he was being, she could never pass up on a chance to pick out an outfit for Harry.

“You’re literally going to be changing the entire time, H, you could have just thrown on sweats,” she called back to him once inside the smaller room. He repeated how she always picked the right thing, even for just around the house. Again, Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry, but she also couldn’t hide the warm smile on her face that was due to his compliment.

She couldn’t believe how dramatic Harry could be sometimes. Right now, he was a lesser form of hungover and he was acting like his life was ending. Y/N had made a note a while ago to never agree to a meeting on the day after any partying. She learned the hard way one particularly terrible Sunday. She had come round his house at a similar time, noon-ish and found Harry dead asleep, backwards in his bed. When she had roused him, his only responses were grumbles and groans. She had to not only pick out his clothes, but also help dress him. Then, after providing water and aspirin, she moved all their work into his bedroom so they could work from there. Harry had proved to be a baby when it came to hangovers. But, she hadn’t realized he could get like this even without being truly hungover.

After settling on his live aid t-shirt, that Y/N was eternally jealous of, located at the front of his drawer and his favorite corduroy trousers, she walked out and threw them in the direction of his toned, but slumped body. “I will not get you boxers, that is most definitely not in my job description, Boss.” Y/N sent a pointed look in his direction, moving to finally leave the room. While he was technically her boss as her employer, their work relationship was extremely collaborative and it never felt like he was in control of her, she just liked to give him shit for being a drama queen.

“Guess I’ll be going commando. How’s that going to work with me changing in front of you a bunch of times?” He teased right back, taking the clothes you had thrown at him and giving them a onceover. His teasing signalled that he was already feeling better.

Y/N shook her head and walked out of the room, “For the love of God, Harry, please put on underwear before you come out and continuously strip in front of me!”

The words he shouted after that were muffled, but they were something along the lines of how the human body is beautiful and shouldn’t be covered up. Unbelievable. As she set to work on making both of them some lunch, she finally heard Harry begin moving around. They had a lot of work to do as it was and whenever Harry was in a mood, whether it be a good mood or a bad mood, they always seemed to have a hard time focusing.

One night, that could be seen as the poster child for Harry and Y/N’s procrastination, was during the planning for the Adore You music video. Harry was in a super good mood that day and he had brought that energy to their meeting at his house. Y/N was supposed to be fitting him for the various outfits, but Harry, in his mania, ordered an overzealous amount of Chinese food. It took her and Harry hours to even make a dent in the food. And while they passed the time with eating, Harry and Y/N got further and further from their tasks, opting for conversations that included more fun topics than work. They had gossipped about some of the other people they worked with, Harry had begged for “the tea” about some of his other staffers and Y/N was happy to oblige. As much as Y/N would hate to admit it, she loved when they got off of work subjects and talked about how their day’s had been and what has been on their nerves lately. It was a nice way to decompress, it was like hanging out with a friend, except it wasn’t, not really.

Harry shuffled into the kitchen wearing what Y/N had picked out for him. Her smile grew knowing that he hadn’t changed what she’d picked. His confidence in her and her abilities never failed to feel like the biggest compliment.

“Go sit at the dining table, I’ve made us some little sandwiches and then we can decide the order we want to go through the outfits in.”

Before following Y/N’s orders, Harry continued his shuffling around, first to the cabinet for a glass, then to the fridge for water. At the end of the table, she set the plates between the head of the table’s spot and the one to its left. Harry took the side spot, so Y/N was on the end. After a bite of his food, Harry moaned loudly in contentment. This caused an amused look on Y/N’s face, there had been nothing special in his house so she had just made what was possible. This meant that Harry’s satisfaction was a little over the top.

“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in a week. What did you do last night that got you in such a twist?” Y/N asked as she took a sip of her own glass of water. Harry nibbled at his lower lip after swallowing, trying to understand why he was particularly tired today.

“I guess I forgot to eat properly yesterday and then I went out running. And I stayed up late on the phone with,” he paused, eyes flashing to Y/N and then away again, “someone for SNL.”

Y/N hummed at his words before going back to her own eating. She didn’t understand why he hesitated about telling her he’d been on the phone last night, it especially irked her that he wouldn’t even say with whom. Professionally, it wasn’t really her business, but Harry was never secretive with her. Plus, it seemed to be work related so why was he being so flighty about it.

Moving forward, Harry peppier from eating and simply moving around, the pair set to work. They decided on trying on everything else first and then saving the Watermelon Sugar suit to the end. The other three main pieces for the night fit perfectly, Y/N had to only do minor reworks of certain areas.

“H, I need you to hold still…” Y/N interrupted Harry’s ramblings as she was crouched beside him.

She had to take up the hem on the pant legs so right now she was trying to pin them in the place she and Harry had agreed upon, without messing with the pleats.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, straightening out his back to stand taller.

He stayed quiet for a bit until Y/N popped back up, she looked at her notebook for reference on what she still had to tailor.

“Okay, next, the pants crotch is looking pretty fitted, so I assume you want it taken down a bit,” Y/N said as she got back into her crouching position. “Look in the mirror and tell me where you think letting it out looks best, I don’t have the best vantage point when I’m up this close…” she trailed off, placing her measuring tape directly on top of Harry’s crotch and running it down his leg a ways.

Once done with her first attempt at where she thought was best to let the pants out, she turned her eyes to the mirror that showed Harry in his suit with Y/N on her knees before him. Harry cleared his throat as he looked in the mirror, seeing Y/N with her eyes wide in anticipation in the position she was in made him want to run and hide. Her hands were extremely close to his dick, but it was literally her job, he knew he had to shake the thoughts that were running through his mind.

“Maybe just a bit further up actually, as much as I like the high waist with dropped crotch, I want this suit to have that specifically tailored look,” his hands motioned for Y/N to bring the drop up a ways.

Her hands then brought the measuring tape up, once again grazing over his area. Again, Y/N looked at Harry through the mirror for approval, and this time he gave it and she placed a single pin in the place where the pants would be let out to.

Standing up, Y/N hoped Harry didn’t notice the blush gracing her face. She was a stylist and used to being around naked bodies as well as touching around a man’s crotch when working. But Harry in this suit must have been magic, because she had felt extremely vulnerable on her knees in front of him in it. She had felt flushed the minute he hadn’t liked what she had done initially and she hated that she felt that way for some reason. Beginning to work on the sleeves of the suit set her at ease, Y/N was thankful to no longer be kneeling or in such close proximity to what was under Harry’s pants.

“Anything on your mind of late?” Harry broke the silence.

Y/N hummed with a pin stuck between her lips, folding up the suit jacket’s right sleeve. Plucking it from her mouth after a few silent moments, she said, “Not really, haven’t had time to do much else lately. Always thinking about you,” Y/N flushed as she realized what she had just said. “I mean, thinking about you like about your clothes and when they’re going to arrive and what I need to do about them, not you personally, sorry that came out wrong,” her blush intensified as she rapidly fumbled through her last sentence.

“Ow!”

“Oh my god!”

While Y/N had gotten flustered with her words, she managed to stick the pin she was using straight into Harry’s flesh. She immediately removed the pin from where it had stuck him.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, H, we’ve got to get this off. I need to make sure you’re not bleeding onto the suit.”

Y/N rushed around to Harry's backside and began slipping off his suit jacket as Harry chuckled and began to unbutton the shirt as carefully as possible.

“‘S alright, Y/N, if there’s any blood on the shirt it’ll blend in, blood is practically the same color.” She glared at him through the mirror and Harry continued to laugh, “That is not funny, H, I shouldn’t have stuck you in the first place.”

“No, no,” Harry hushed Y/N as she began to slip off his shirt from one side to the other, taking off the sleeve on the side she hadn’t poked, “you’ve got so much on your plate with all the planning for the upcoming events. Then you worked yourself up over a little slip.” As Y/N carefully unbuttoned the cuff of the sleeve to try and slip off the shirt with the least amount of blood on it as possible, Harry finished with, “I wouldn’t mind if you were just thinking about me, though, an’ not the clothes.”

This time, Y/N was very in control, not willing to let herself slip up a second time today. She didn’t know how to respond to what Harry had just admitted. It wasn’t like this hasn't happened before. Both of them were guilty of making little comments that made it sound like they were interested in each other in a way that was a little different than professional or friendly. But every time the other person always had the responsibility to shut the idea down or completely blow past what their counter had just said.

“Harry…” She began, it was soft and pleading, like she was saying she couldn’t entertain that idea. Examining his forearm, after pulling the shirt completely away and resting it on a nearby chair, she saw a little spot of blood protruding from the pin prick she had caused. “Where do you keep your bandages?” Y/N decided that it was best to brush past Harry’s words this time and went off to find his first aid kit. Harry stood there, shirtless, staring at the blood on his arm. It really wasn’t a lot and it wouldn’t have done anything to the suit, but Y/N was always so careful and never wanted to ruin any of Harry’s clothes.

On her return, Y/N came upon a shirtless Harry perched on the edge of the table, with one arm crossed and his other - that was bleeding - being held slightly away from his body, as if Harry was afraid to touch it. His posture was slumped so Y/N could see his spine curving beneath his tanned honey-soft skin and his shoulder blades slightly flexed. While most of Harry’s body was covered in tattoos, she noticed how the closest tattoo to his back was the small line drawing of a guitar on the back of his left shoulder. Other than that his smooth back was bare. Y/N found it interesting that Harry had never chosen to ink his back. She jogged lightly back into the room and Harry’s head turned to watch her approach. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he regarded her. She noticed he was being particularly quiet, but she had no idea why. Maybe he was still tired.

Y/N set to work on finding the correct tissue, neosporin, and bandage for Harry’s small wound. As she worked on fixing up her mistake, Harry’s eyes followed her movements. Green eyes flickering between her hands on his arm and her own eyes focusing on her task.

“After this, I actually can just head home and finish the rest of the work,” Y/N said as she unpackaged the bandage, “I already know where I need to take in the suit sleeves and the shirt’s sleeves were looking fine. So, I can get out of your hair and you can get to sleep early tonight.” She placed the nude toned bandage over Harry’s arm, she was a little sad to find he didn’t own fun bandages. That was something that she expected from Harry, but she resigned that maybe she didn’t know everything about Harry.

Before Harry could speak, Y/N continued, “Don’t rehearsals for the show start tomorrow? When are you flying to New York?” She ran her hand over the bandage, smoothing it in place. Her hand lingered there as her eyes looked up and met Harry’s. Harry twitched his arm away from Y/N’s touch and scratched his nose slightly.

“Yeah, I’m flying out tomorrow morning. When are you set to fly out?”

“Friday. I’ll get in before the final dress rehearsal and then I’ll be there for the show.” Y/N stepped back and began to rehang the suit jacket and shirt that they had discarded in her haste to not get blood on them.

Then Y/N stood there staring at Harry. He looked at her slightly confused by her doing nothing when she said she was leaving. “Pants, H.” She said finally when she realized he had forgotten he was still wearing the suit pants. “Oh! Sorry,” Harry exclaimed as he began to unbutton and remove the pants he was wearing. He handed her the pants and she exchanged them with his live-aid t shirt. He took it graciously before slipping it on and disguising his toned body beneath it. Then he took his pants from earlier and fully redressed himself.

“Damn!” Y/N said and Harry’s head flipped to watch her as she began to put all of the clothing back in their garment bags and take down the rack.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just pinched myself with the rack, I’m all left feet today.”

“Here,” Harry chuckled as he walked over to help Y/N, “let me help you with all this. Just in the boot of your car, yeah?” Y/N nodded and smiled in appreciation for Harry. He grabbed her keys laying on the table and then took the rack and a garment bag. Even if things sometimes got tense between them, for whatever reason, he was always quick to move past it and be thoughtful and kind in the best ways for Y/N. After shaking her hand out, she grabbed the last garment bags and followed Harry out to her car. Harry shut the back of her car softly and turned to face Y/N, she stood beside her car door, ever so slightly leaning against it. He walked to her side and smiled.

“I’ll see you in a week,” he said before wrapping his arms around Y/N’s much smaller frame. His body was radiating heat and it felt good against Y/N in the crisp night air of London. She pressed into his hold and wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him hard. “Less than...Can’t wait to see you make an absolute fool of yourself out there.” Harry protested her tease with a small, “Hey!” but mostly focused on his hands on her back and the way her hair felt especially soft under his chin. Finally, Y/N pulled away, “Kidding! You’ll be amazing and you’ll look killer while doing it.” She winked before opening her car door and driving off. Harry was left with the lingering scent of her perfume and shampoo mingling in his nose.

It was the Saturday night, November 16th, 2019.

Harry and Y/N were in his dressing room before the show started. His outfits for the night were lined up, except for his opener one that Y/N had just dressed him in. His first change would be for Light’s Up, then a couple skit outfits that had to be moved elsewhere for quick changes, then the Watermelon Sugar suit, and then finally his end of the show casual look. The opener looked incredible, it’s fit was impeccable and Y/N knew people were going to love it.

She stepped back from Harry to give his whole body a once over, the SNL hairstylist had just blown out his hair and given him a sort of middle part. It definitely looked good and paired with the suit - Y/N could already tell it was going to be a hit by all accounts. Harry grinned back at her, doing a little dance to show just how much he was loving his clothes and how excited he was.

Grabbing the lint roller, Y/N gave the lapels of his suit jacket a once over and then moved it slightly out of the way to roll the big collar of Harry’s shirt and the bits of the body of the shirt that were showing underneath the jacket. Basically, Y/N was lint rolling over Harry’s clothed abs. Apparently, that was a ticklish area for Harry because he began to squirm and giggle under the tool’s touch.

“Seriously, H?”

She smiled as she said it, so excited for Harry that she couldn’t be mad at his relestness.

“Can’t help it. ‘M so giddy. Plus, I’m a wee bit ticklish.”

Y/N gave him a single laugh before removing the lint roller and smoothing over the shirt against his stomach and then over the lapels when she put the jacket back in place. She adjusted the Gucci reader’s she was wearing today, that were more for decoration than anything, but she liked to pretend they made her see better.

“You look smashing, Mr. Styles. Absolutely gorgeous, if I do say so myself.”

“Are you talking to me or the suit?” Harry asked as he flipped to look in the full length mirror in the dressing room.

“Can’t it be both?”

“Sure,” Harry said, he noticed the clock and realized it was his time to get in places. He leaned down and placed a small kiss on Y/N’s cheek, “It’s my time, thank you, Y/N.” She blushed at his words and actions. As he walked out the door, she called after him, “Break a leg, H!” He sent a final air kiss in her direction before completely disappearing.

She looked at the clothes hanging on the rack in the room and palmed over the fabric. Checking the lapels and brushing the lint roller over the, she finally stepped back and was happy with how they looked. When the show was just about to start, she flitted to the part of backstage where she could watch Harry perform. She giggled along to his monologue and grinned whole-heartedly when the crowd would roar with approval. Y/N had heard all of the jokes already because of the dress rehearsal yesterday, but it didn’t matter. Harry was killing it. She also took time to appreciate how good Harry looked in his suit on stage. In front of the lights and all the people, his suit shined brightly with the pops of blue and yellow and the oversized grey-iege jacket. His soft chestnut hair billowed perfectly to frame his forehead as he sipped from the faux martini. Y/N bit her lip to stifle her laugh. The fact that Harry, her boss and friend, was up on the Saturday Night Live stage with pink and blue nails sipping from a faux martini, it was perfect.

When Harry came back for his first performance change Y/N was right there waiting for him.

“Hi, that was really good,” she smiled up at him as he began to take off his coat.

He smiled brightly back at her as he exhaled a hefty breath, “You think so?”

“Yes! C’mon, everyone loved it. You delivered it all perfectly…” she took over undoing the buttons on the shirt because Harry was moving too slowly. “I’m in a man band now…” Y/N mumbled under her breath before chuckling.

“Did you just imitate my accent?” Harry said, now pulling off his sleeves.

Y/N moved around his back to take the shirt to hang and grab his Lights Up outfit. They worked like a well-oiled machine together, constantly taking over roles to get things done more efficiently, but never stepping on each other’s toes.

“Nope,” she winked before handing him the black sequin jumpsuit and exchanging it for his yellow pants. After rehanging the pants and bringing over Harry’s different set of boots, Y/N said, “Y’know, I’d have to say that your hair is giving your suit a run for its money.” She placed the shoes on the table beside Harry and began to fix into the place different parts of the jumpsuit, moving to zip up the back and then coming to the front to smooth it.

“What do you mean?” Harry looked in the mirror and delicately touched the edges of his hair, considering Y/N’s statement.

“No one ever really sees it how it is, nicely blown out but not too much product so it falls to frame your face. What’d you tell the hair person you wanted?” Y/N stepped back to allow Harry to change his boots from one Gucci pair to another, like he did with most of his wardrobe.

“Just told them to make me look mature. You think it looks good?” He looked up at Y/N when he asked the question.

“Think it looks sexy, that’s what I’m saying, no one’s gonna be able to focus on your clothes with how good your hair looks.”

“Ah,” he deftly runs his hands down his suit as he looks in the mirror.

Y/N just stares at Harry, checking him over one more time. She wasn’t lying about his hair, it was sexy and she wanted to run her hands through it to feel how soft it was. In a complete friend way of course.

“I like it…”

“It looks like you just rolled out of bed, but the bed was made of angel feathers.”

Harry laughed at Y/N’s description. He shifted his body to face her more and moved closer to her in the process.

“Alright, you should probably get back out there,” Y/N closes the gap between them and adjusts the chain of his jade and silver crosses and brushes over his broad shoulders.

They’re professional touches, but her movements hold an undercurrent of intimacy that neither of them realize. If anyone had been looking on, they would see how Y/N’s fingers delicately caressed Harry’s skin right before she cradled the pendants to move them in place. They would also see Harry instinctively lean forward into her touch and breathe slightly deeper to take in her scent. When she brushes over his shoulders, he straightens up at the touch and shows he’s ready to get back out there. It’s as if she prepared him to go.

Harry sings Lights Up and the crowd loves it. Sarah kills her drumming and Mitch eats up lead guitar. The backup singers bring out a different tone to the song. It is all around an amazing performance.

As Y/N clapped along with the crowd from backstage, Aidy Bryant approaches her.

“You’re Harry’s stylist, right?”

Y/N turns her head at the woman next to her, “Yeah?”

Aidy smiles, eyes slightly gleaming, “Well, you’re wonderful at your job.” As Y/N is about to thank her, Aidy continues, “And Harry knows that too, he talked about you all week. We all thought you were his girlfriend at first.”

Y/N laughed lightly and had to keep herself from letting her jaw drop at Aidy’s words. She even choked a bit on her own spit and had to cough slightly before even being able to think of a response, “Well, um, yeah...no, H, Harry is just my employer and...friend. No dating, we just get along well. Which is important since we spend a lot of time together - for work of course!”

Aidy smiled sweetly at Y/N, “Yeah, Harry explained that when Beck asked him how long you’d been together. At first he had said a couple months and then said ‘wait, Y/N is just my stylist, we’ve been working together for a couple months’ and then we all felt really dumb.”

“Don’t feel dumb,” Y/N reassured her, unsure why she was actually continuing this conversation, “He loves to talk about clothes and that’s where I fit in to his life, so I’m sure my name would come up a fair bit. Was that it?”

“Yeah I guess, but-” Aidy began to say more, but Y/N cut her off.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, but Harry’s finished and I’ve got to go help him change for his next song.”

Aidy was left in Y/N’s wake, chuckling to herself, fully reassured about the reason that they had all thought Harry had been dating Y/N. Because they already acted like a couple. And they were both helplessly in love with one another and neither of them knew.

The rest of the show went off without a hitch. Harry continued to wow the crowd and Y/N sent him off from his dressing room always looking fabulous. Just as he was about to walk back on stage for his final farewell, Y/N noticed a tiny string on his trousers zipper. Unable to stop Harry and unable to grab at the string without looking odd, she had to let him walk on stage with it. It wasn’t actually a big deal, but Y/N sighed in annoyance because she knew that string was going to bug her for the rest of the night.

“Treat People With Kindness!” Harry finishes off his farewell.

Applause begins to sound and the cast is out front hugging and chatting, while Y/N is watching from the side still fixated on the string on Harry’s pants, now simply dangling. Finally, they begin to clear the stage because it’s time for the after party. Y/N knew there was no stealing Harry away to fix the problem that was now fixated in her mind. Every cast and crew member was trying to talk to him, congratulating him, hugging him, anything to spend time with the incredible man. Y/N couldn’t blame them, but she also wanted to be able to go some place quiet and debrief with Harry about his outfits. She wanted to look up what people were saying about his clothes and discuss the critiques with Harry. She also wanted to start discussing what was coming next with Harry. But most of all, she just wanted to hang out with Harry.

What Y/N wanted wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which she knew, but it still only grew her annoyance with that string. If only she could get it off of him, maybe then her mind would be able to relax a little.

She meandered backstage, resigned she wouldn’t be talking to Harry for a while. There she went to find the band’s dressing room, knowing she would find Mitch or Sarah who she’d be happy to talk to. They weren’t ones for the spotlight and no one ever really seemed to want to brownnose with them at events like this. Y/N had met them a few times.

The first was when Harry had asked Y/N to meet him in the studio in mid July, Mitch and Sarah had both been there helping Harry finish up something for the album. Y/N never asked what, she liked music quite a bit, but when it came to the technical part of it, it went completely over her head. Harry had introduced them both and they seemed lovely. After that, she had seen them around for an event or two of Harry’s. It wasn’t much, but it was more than any of the other people around right now.

Just as she was about to knock on the door it swung open, revealing Harry’s entire backing band. “Hey,” Y/N said sheepishly, “Harry’s being fawned over by the masses and I don’t actually know anyone else here. Is it alright if I hang out with you all at this after party? I doubt there’s going to be anyone really dying to meet the stylist.”

She smoothed her own clothes as she spoke. Y/N wanted to look professional tonight because sometimes when she was dressed in more fun or “young” clothes she got mistaken for someone who had snuck in. The only thing that got people to not question her authority to be where she was, was a card that read ‘staff’ that she would clip onto whatever she was wearing at places like this. Tonight, she chose a pair of purple plaid pants, a sleek lilac tank underneath a cream knit shawl, and cream Gucci mules. Ever since Harry took an interest in Y/N’s pearl necklace, she had largely stopped wearing hers because she hoped never to be photographed matching with him. However, she had known the pearls would have completed the look, even putting them on in her hotel room, twisting a pearl in her hand as she looked in the mirror, and then taking the necklace off again and settling on a different silver necklace instead. The ‘staff’ card was clipped to her pants pocket tonight.

“Of course!” Sarah said as the band began to file out of the room, “You might want to take your tag off now, though, you’re done working for the night.”

Her laughter rang sweetly through Y/N’s ears and she smiled back before removing her identifying card. She hated the piece of plastic and was glad to take it off, it never went with her outfits, but she had gotten tired of taking out her business card every time someone asked what she was doing. Y/N was sure that during the tour she’d be fine without it, but as Harry’s show appearances were beginning to ramp up she knew it would be helpful to have.

“Thanks...you all were amazing out there tonight. Second time on the SNL stage right?”

The group of you began to walk in the direction of where the after party was being held. Mitch piped up, “Thanks. Yeah, I love their box stage setup, it’s pretty cool.” Y/N was happy that she had people who were easy to talk to so that she wouldn’t be alone tonight.

Arriving in the room of the party, they were all quick to grab the alcohol that was being provided at the pop up bar. Y/N wasn’t normally a fan of drinking at events like these, mainly because she was not usually invited to this part of the night and when she was she wanted to be alert. But she figured there wasn’t much else to do so she took a hearty sip of the champagne. It was a little sweet, her face scrunched.

“Too sweet?” Mitch questioned when he saw Y/N’s face.

“Just a little for my taste.”

“Harry’s not going to be drinking tonight then. So particular about his alcohol,” Mitch continued.

Y/N laughed, “Well I’m glad, then I don’t have to deal with him being a baby about his hangover tomorrow.”

Mitch quirked an eyebrow at Y/N’s statement. Sarah and the others in the band had dispersed to mingle with the SNL party goers, leaving Mitch and Y/N to their conversation.

Realizing what she said could be seen as slightly weird out of context, Y/N quickly started again, “because I’m supposed to go shopping with Harry tomorrow. He wanted to go to Gucci and a couple other stores here before flying to LA. I’m going back to London until the listening parties, so we need to figure out the finishing touches for those and..” Y/N trailed off trying to remember which looks weren’t completed yet for the next few shows, Mitch waited patiently, “a few of the suits for the Late Late Show. He’s not happy with one of them so we might switch it. But anyway, you know how he is with a hangover. Proper child.”

Mitch threw his head back in laughter at Y/N’s serious look that she gave him. “Yeah, he can be...a lot. I meant to tell you, Harry looked great tonight. All of the clothes were fantastic,” Mitch added.

He was kind and Y/N appreciated him sticking with her. The two of them had rested themselves against a wall near the bar, sipping their champagne and enjoying each other’s company.

“Thank you.”

Mitch opened his mouth to say something else, but Heidi Gardener, another SNL member interrupted.

“Y/N, right!?”

Y/N and Mitch both turn to her, equally taken aback by the sudden burst of energy from this person they didn’t really know. Y/N nodded.

“Oh my gosh! You have to tell me where you got the jacket Harry is wearing!”

Heidi even goes as far to point in Harry’s direction. Y/N knows what she’s talking about, but her eyes still wander to where she pointed. Harry stood in a clump of people, surrounded by Ben Winston, James Corden, and the Gerbers who had all come to watch. She sighed as she watched his eyes shine as he laughed with a smile on his face. She hoped that by now the string had fallen off his pants by now, if not she was going to kick herself later.

“Oh, it’s Bode,” Y/N’s eyes coming back to meet Heidi’s happy face, “but it’s custom made from a vintage blanket. There’s only two that exist.”

Y/N and Mitch watched as Heidi’s face dropped.

“And I’m pretty sure the designer owns the other one,” Y/N added, “Sorry.”

Heidi smiles and jokes, “Know any ways I could possibly get Harry to give me his?”

“He loves that coat. I have no idea what you could possibly do to convince him he didn’t need it anymore.”

“Sex, probably,” Mitch says under his breath.

Heidi doesn’t catch it as she walks back off and Y/N turns to swat him with her free hand.

“What? He always gives away his clothes to girl’s he has crushes on.” Y/N rolls her eyes at Mitch’s words.

“Probably best if you don’t inform the masses about that,” a new voice says.

Unbeknownst to Mitch and Y/N, Harry had broken away from his entourage to steal a few minutes with his two friends, his best friends if he was being honest. They laugh together as he wraps his arms around their shoulders and pulls them both into his chest. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from Harry’s body as she snuggles into his side. Her hand wraps under his jacket and around his waist to squeeze right about his hip bone. His face is gleaming with a small sheen of sweat, but his smile is so big she barely notices his perspiration as he looks down at her.

“Heard you were talkin’ shit?”

Mitch quips, “Us? Never.”

Harry scoffs, “Come off it!”

When he releases Y/N and Mitch from his grasp, Mitch straightens up while Y/N’s eyes immediately go down to Harry’s crotch. She’s not paying attention to their conversation as she tries to make out in the dim light whether the string is gone or not. The men realize she’s not listening and they both follow her gaze.

Confused, Harry asks, “Y/N, any particular reason you’re staring at my dick?”

Her head shoots up, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

“I wasn’t!”

Mitch laughs and decides he wants another glass of champagne right then, mumbling something about how that was his cue. Harry smiles, knowing she wasn’t doing what he had said, but still intrigued to know what was going on in her mind.

“You had a string right on your zipper and it’s been bugging me since you went out for your outro. This is the first time I’ve seen you on your own and I couldn't exactly go up to you in a random crowd and grab at your crotch. But now I can’t see in this light…” Y/N bit at her lower lip and furrowed her brow still trying to see if the string was there.

“Have you really been thinking about it this whole time?” Harry asked, slightly concerned.

“Yes...I know it doesn’t matter, but I just want your clothes to look perfect.”

Harry takes a deep breath as he makes a small smile at Y/N. Then he brushes over the front of his pants, hoping he removes the string if it's still attached to him. “There, I’m sure it’s gone now. I’m sorry you had to worry about that. Just know everyone I’ve talked to has been raving about the clothes.” He placed his ring-clad hand on Y/N’s upper arm and squeezed it.

“You did an amazing job,” Y/N said.

Harry pulls her into his chest one more time. This time without Mitch so both of Harry’s arms go around her shoulders and both of hers go around his slender waist. Again her hands disappear under his coat and thumb over his warm white t-shirt, her face resting on his chest right next to the word ‘Sex’. His arms tighten around her back as they rest there for a while. Y/N always has to make herself pull away, knowing that Harry will stay there for as long as he can - in anyone’s embrace - and remembering they’re in a public setting, she didn’t want anyone to assume things, even if she had already been made aware that people had.

“We’ll debrief more later tonight, yeah? The champagne is terrible so I won’t be drinking,” Harry said.

Y/N laughed under her breath as she smiled at his words. Mitch and her knew Harry too well. She nodded about getting together later, “Alright. Get back to your fan club.” Harry narrowed her eyes at her words, not sure if she was trying to sound sarcastic or not.

Hey, I’m back at the hotel. Just let me know when you want to debrief :) x

Y/N texted Harry the minute she got back to the hotel, she had no idea if he had left before her or was still at the after party. All she knew was that it was late and she was starting to get tired. Still, it was important for them to talk about their plans for tomorrow and she also really wanted to just be with him alone. Whenever they would debrief after big events Harry and Y/N would laugh at all the outrageous stuff they had seen go on throughout the night.

When she was still a freelance stylist she had helped Harry to plan his Camp outfit at the Met Gala. That night, they never even went to bed and had to debrief about the clothes the next afternoon over tea at the Palace. Both her and Harry were recovering from their exhaustion and nursing equally terrible hangovers. But there they were, sitting in the center of the dining area of the hotel, being served some of the nicest tea and sandwiches Y/N had ever had. It was amazing. Y/N had never felt that rich in her life before and Harry had told her the craziest stories about the most famous people in attendance. It was almost unbelievable what these people would reveal to Harry and Y/N was happy to listen to all of it, promising to never tell anyone else. That outing was probably the first time Harry realized he really liked Y/N and wanted to work more closely with her.

While tonight wasn’t quite as wild as the Met Gala had been, Y/N was still excited to hear any funny stories Harry might have in addition to their clothing talk. They really hadn’t had much time to chat since she had gotten to New York yesterday so it would be nice to just be alone together. Even if Y/N chalked their debriefs up to ‘shop talk’, she was always very excited for them.

As she reached her hotel room door, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.

I’m still out, but should be heading back soon. Up to you if you want to wait up or we can just debrief in the morning while we shop. x H

Y/N sighed at the message, she wanted to wait up and debrief before tomorrow, if not for alone time with Harry but professionally for being able to plan out their shopping tomorrow. Where Harry was carefree, Y/N was meticulous and planned out. She liked to have fun, but she knew when she had to get her work done, even when Harry was off in his own mind. Their work styles mostly coincided, Harry could be serious and focused, too, but often when he was surrounded by all his famous friends he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to whatever came up. So Y/N knew that Harry’s definition of ‘soon’ could range from actually soon to almost dawn. She really hoped he actually meant soon, so she shot him a text saying:

Just knock on my room and if I open it we can debrief lol x

Harry smiled down at his phone when Y/N’s text came through, slightly chuckling before double tapping and placing a heart reaction of her text. Then he was pulled into the limo that one of his friend’s had gotten them and was handed a flute of champagne.

Back at the hotel, Y/N threw her phone on the bed and decided to change and simply settle in for the night. If Harry made it back, he made it back and if he didn’t she’d wake up well rested.

Maybe thirty minutes into scrolling on her phone, Y/N heard a rough knock on her door. She was actually quite surprised that Harry had indeed been back soon. Rising from her snuggled place in the bed, she shifted around her night clothes and padded to her door. There stood, rather hung, a slightly disheveled Harry. His hair was whipped into disaster, something was smudged on his face, and she noticed a stain on his t-shirt that hadn’t been there the last time she’d been with him.

He slurred her name as he stumbled through the doorway. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She was in awe that somehow Harry hadn’t gotten off his ass in the past hour and a half.

“What happened to not drinking tonight?”

She walked beside him and helped shove him into a sitting position on her bed. He flapped his arms, chaotically trying to get his plaid jacket off. Throwing her phone in the direction of her pillow, she moved to help Harry with his jacket. After quite a bit of strugglings, Y/N finally got the Bode jacket off of him successfully and threw it onto the nearby chair. Sighing, she settled beside him.

“So, Harry, care to explain?”

“Hi, Y/N…” He swayed slightly, attempting to face Y/N more. She threw out a hand to his shoulder, gripping him tightly to try and steady him.

“We went in this limousine, and they had champagne - good champagne - and I drank a bottle or so pretty quickly.”

“Or so? Oh Harry...I mean you’re free to make your own choices, but I don’t know if this was one of your best.”

“Wasn’t...wasn’t my idea. I was planning on just going back to the hotel. Then James convinced me to come out for a bit. Then the champagne was looking good so I went for it.”

“Like I said, you can make your own choices,” she patted his arm and went to the en suite bathroom to wet a washcloth to clean off his face.

“So, is it champagne on your shirt or am I going to have to go through hell to get the stain out?” She called.

Harry groaned and leaned back on the bed, fingering at the crisp white sheets. “Champagne,” he finally muttered as Y/N reappeared into the dim room, only the outside world and the light in the bathroom lighting this area.

“And on the face?”

She climbed onto the bed and kneeled beside Harry’s prone body, beginning to swipe at the smudge on his face. He tilted his head to face her, bringing the cheek with the dirt to lay facing perfectly up. His jawline showed perfectly and she felt the strength that laid beneath the skin she was washing.

His eyes flitted up to her face, trying to stop the spins he was currently experiencing. He hadn’t thought he was that drunk until he had been required to find his way up to their floor on his own.

“Lipstick?”

She sighed, running the washcloth over his cheek once more, and tried to push the image of some woman (or man who wore lipstick, she guessed) with her lips all over Harry’s face. She didn’t want to know who it was or why it was. It was too hard, especially after the day of people asking her about Harry and her relationship and insinuating things about him and his romantic life. She just liked to keep the words Harry and romance apart as much as possible, it made her life easier that way.

“It was only from-”

“It’s ok, Harry, I don’t need to know who you were…” She stopped herself, not even wanting to say ‘kissing’ or ‘snogging’ or even worse ‘shagging’. Adults were human beings and they could do a lot in an hour and a half. And again, she didn’t want to know.

“You keep doing that. Are you mad at me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Calling me Harry, not ‘H’. Is it because you’re mad at me?”

“No,” she sighed, shifting to sit more casually, “No, I’m not mad at you. I just wasn’t expecting you to show up at my door like this. I try not to worry about you, but then when you show up like this, it kind of affirms I had reason to be concerned.”

She took a hand and smoothed over Harry’s tousled hair, he rolled his head back to face the ceiling. “Like I said, you’re an adult, capable of making his own decisions. And, I am just your stylist. I’m just glad you made it up here and knocked on my door. Probably would have given someone else a fright.”

He laughed, starting to sober up as the spinning in the room stopped. Her hands on his face and hair were soothing and sobering.

“Thank you for caring about me, love. And going beyond being just my stylist, you’re my friend Y/N.”

His eyes flickered shut and Y/N stared at his soothed features. His words were still slurred and she was sure the use of love was just his britishness slipping through his drunken state. The part about being more than a stylist, she tried to push it away, telling herself not to read more into it than her heart would like to. Even though he said she was a friend as well as a stylist and not anything more, it still sent so much joy through her body. He didn’t just see her as a work colleague and he had said it. But in his inebriated state, Y/N didn’t want to take everything he said as gospel.

She moved him up the bed with a little bit of his sleepy self’s help into a more comfortable position. It was pretty late now and she wasn’t going to kick him out. It would have been rude and unkind and that were two things Y/N rarely was. She went and grabbed the extra blanket from the cabinet and draped it over Harry’s large body for extra warmth since he refused to get under the covers. She also slipped off his boots and stained shirt per his request before getting into the other side of the bed and falling asleep.

She awoke to a shifting body beside her and she sat up confused as to who it could be. Quickly, Harry showing up drunk at her door came flooding back and she turned to look at the groaning Harry beside her. His arm was thrown over his face as he moaned, just waking up as well and experiencing the first bits of his hangover. This was going to be a long day.

“Hullo,” his voice was especially low, groggy and hoarse from the night before. He peaked over at her from behind the crook of his elbow. His eyelids barely open and his eyelashes weighing them down so much so that she could barely see his sleepy jade eyes.

“Good morning, H. Have a nice rest?” Y/N sat up and began to ready herself for the day, rummaging through her suitcase for an outfit and moving about the room.

Harry’s arms went to his sides as he worked to sit up, eyes following her figure as she moved around, seemingly not groggy very much unlike him. “Erm...I’m sorry for showing up pissed.”

“S’fine, H. Just glad you didn’t end up in a ditch or someone’s bed - someone’s that you might regret…” She barely regards him, throwing a single glance his way before shuffling to the bathroom to change. She knows they’ll be photographed today, it’s almost inevitable right now. Everyone knows Harry is in New York and people are buzzing to see him after his performance last night. She slips on the 70s inspired dress, the v-neck and long sleeves settling perfectly on her frame, it hugs her curves and lands around mid-thigh. Rolling on the bold mustard yellow tights and strapping up the brown leather mary jane heels, she looks herself over in the mirror. She then tries to tame her hair and do the rest of her routine, knowing she needed to get on with the day, shopping first and flying home second. Making sure Harry was okay was also on that list, but she couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t a little disappointed in him after last night.

When she returns, Harry is sitting with his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, head hanging as he’s hunched over himself. “C’mon, you gotta get going, kid. Lots to do today.” She’s pacing over to Harry’s deflated figure to pick him up and prompt him to get moving. When she arrives by his side his head lifts and his now more awake eyes stare up at her.

“I’m sorry for yesterday, really. I mean it.”

“I told you already. It’s fine.”

“It’s not - or it wasn’t. You called me ‘Harry’ last night. I don’t think I’ve heard you call me that to my face since we started working together. I took your answer last night because I was swimming in it, but now, thinking about it. I know you were upset.”

She huffs, taking a seat beside Harry on the bed, choosing to not look at him, slightly confused why she had been so upset and why he was pushing it. “Ok, yeah I was annoyed, but I was also genuinely worried. I didn’t know you could physically get that drunk in that small amount of time. And then you show up at my door with somebody else’s…” Y/N falters, catching her slip up and deciding to fix her gaze on her shoes and their intricate design built into the leather.

“You’re upset that I had lipstick on me?” He’s trying to meet Y/N’s gaze, but her eyes are really interested in her shoes. His tone is confused, he’s trying to understand what’s going on in her mind.

She scoffs, risking a glance to Harry but then returns quickly back to her dress this time. “Please...it was just inconvenient for me, okay? Thought we were going to debrief and stayed up late for you. Then I had to take care of you after you hung out with your famous pals and I had barely even seen you all day. Felt a bit used.”

Harry shifted in the bed, turning to face her by tucking one leg beneath him. He places a hand on hers that was placed on the end of her dress. Her eyes finally meet with his and she feels her breath slightly catch in her throat. His eyes are piercing, his gaze intense, maybe even a tinge of anger. “Y/N, I would never have come to your room if I even had an inkling that this would be how you’d interpret it . Even though I was drunk, I wanted to see you, that’s why I came up here, because I wanted to be with my friend, one of my best friends, not because I just needed some pushover to care for me.”

She sighs, feeling icky still about the whole situation. She sometimes found herself in fights that she never intended, she wished she hadn’t said anything at all. But she also knew that wasn’t healthy either. Flipping her hand, she intertwines her fingers with Harry’s and smiles for the first time that morning. His expression softens at it. “Look, I’m sorry too, H. It honestly wasn’t that big of a deal, but I appreciate that you’re such a great guy and boss to want to truly apologize and make sure I’m comfortable and happy… Oh, and I promise I’ll never call you anything but H from here on out - unless you tell me otherwise.”

He cackles unabashedly at her words, before suddenly clutching at his temple with his free hand. “Fuckin’ hangover,” he mumbles. She smiles and stands up, beginning to throw his shirt and shoes from the end of the bed at him, “You need to get ready. Go pop some advil or whatever. My flights at 5 so we haven’t got all day, H.”

“There she is,” Harry grins, beginning to put back on the stained ‘Sex’ shirt.

As he hustles out of the room, shoes in hand, she calls to him one last request, “When you’re in fresh clothes make sure you bring me that stained shirt. Gonna have to spot clean it when I’m back in London!”

“Of course! And we’ll debrief as we shop, yeah?”

“Yes!”

The two of them were shouting to each other as the door continued to close on them. Chuckling to herself, she begins to pack up her room, knowing she had to check out before they left. Her spirits already lifted, she doesn’t even notice as she throws Harry’s forgotten Bode jacket into her suitcase with some other items that had been on her chair. She wouldn’t notice it until she was back in London unpacking from the trip.

Shutting the case, she springs back up from her crouched position and walks to look in the full length mirror again. Her fingers run the length of her dress, leafing over the slightly darker brown embroidered flowers that were woven into the tan fabric. She squints as she turns sideways and pops a heel up behind her. It looks good, but something is missing. Rummaging through her carry-on she pulls out her old butterfly bandana she used as a head scarf and begins to fix it into place on her head. Placing large sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, she feels like the look is complete and gives herself some poses in the mirror; a peace sign, an air kiss, a Marilyn Monroe. She laughs at herself.

A knock on the door shakes her from her childish fun. Straightening up, Y/N saunters over to the door, swinging it open with ease. “H?”

“You ready?” Harry stands in a fresh pair of Marni trousers paired with a striped orange and mauve Marni sweater. He, like Y/N, had this thing about wearing the brand you planned to shop at. He didn’t always stick to his rule, but he usually didn’t like to wear Gucci when he shopped at Gucci.

“Yeah, just need to check out and drop my baggage at the front to be held for later.” Y/N slips through the door and notes how his outfit compliments hers. She wouldn’t mention it, but it's something to think about since he had known what she was wearing. She wasn’t sure why she noticed things like that, if asked, her answer would probably be that it was the stylist in her, just her job.

Stepping out of a black town car on the side street next to Gucci to go in the side entrance would never get old for Y/N. She had never really enjoyed the idea of fame, but from a young age she had known she wanted to be able to afford the finer things in life. Going into the Gucci store now, especially with Harry, was like going to the candy store once you’re a grown up and can buy whatever you want rather than what your parents will allow you to.

Today, Harry and Y/N didn’t have as much time as they would usually like to spend in the store, but they were just happy to be doing what they loved. Y/N had been ecstatic to find out Harry found shopping to be an essential part of his life and that he liked to do his outfit shopping in person rather than online. Trying on clothes and picking out things you liked just was so much more fulfilling when you were in the physical store. Then make that all happen with Harry Styles as the buyer, then it was a real party. The stores liked to pull out their Champagne and clear the store to allow him privacy, specifically when it was for clothes for projects under wraps. In the beginning of her employment, it was only ever Harry who would do the trying on of clothes, but as the two of them got acquainted and comfortable with each other, she found herself trying things Harry would pick out for her. At first, she would veto some items saying they were too expensive for her, but eventually she learned that her new salary covered whatever it was. She had always enjoyed designer labels and choosing to be a stylist meant she had nice clothes, but only working for Harry had caused her closet to double in size and triple in value.

“So we are looking for some trousers today,” she tells the worker at the store, reminding them of what she had already called ahead about. The employee nods and proceeds to lead them into the room where they had laid out an assortment of pants for Harry to pick from.

“What do you think of these?” Harry walks out and strikes a pose, popping one of his hips to the side and his hands on his hips. The pants strain around his thighs, but fit practically perfectly everywhere else. His slim waist is perfectly encircled by the fabric and he’s decided the sweater he was wearing didn’t match them and he’d rather go shirtless. This choice technically should allow her to solely focus on the pants, but it actually makes her focus that much more diverted. She makes a spinning motion with her pointer finger as she purses her lips. He takes a quick spin and the boot cut slightly flares with his movement. The pants are a dark brown with a single plaid crossing in a lighter brown. They are only lightly flared, which she prefered to the extreme flare that some of Harry’s suits had. She narrows her eyes at the pants to keep her gaze from shifting to the taut muscles of Harry’s arms and torso or the dark ink that licked over his skin in the beautiful designs of his choice.

“They’re nice,” she pulls up a picture of the top part of the outfit he was planning on wearing, “Do you think they match with this though?” Harry walks over to her seated position and bends to look at her phone. His skin radiates heat and the smell of his cologne and she sniffles slightly with her sensitive nose. His eyes flicker to her face when he notices her little noise, but returns to looking at the phone when she doesn’t spare him a glance. She felt his gaze on her, but couldn’t bring herself to look from the phone. She knew his proximity would make it even harder for her to keep her eyes off his naked torso. The expensive smell of Harry mixed with the expensive smell of the store was a lot to handle.

“Yeah...no. You think they’re not right,” she widens her eyes at Harry’s words when he pulls away. He turns to the mirror in the open dressing room and fiddles with the waistline of the pants. “I agree,” he finishes before stalking back into the room and shutting the heavy velvet curtain that worked as the door to it.

He tries on five more pairs of trousers and finally settles on two pairs for the two different listening parties. A heavier, wool-tweed pair that was dark brown and then a lighter brown tweed pair. He was still in the lighter pants as he stared into the mirror. He beckoned to Y/N, and she quickly set down the flute of Champagne she had been sipping at lazily as he admired himself.

“Is it possible for you to take it in a bit more,” he says in a hushed tone to her, not wanting the workers to overhear. They were helpful but if they overheard they would wait for the store to tailor the trousers and he preferred for Y/N to do it. He rubs at the waistline again and she moves closer, her hands going to his sides. Her fingertips graze the naked skin above the trousers and Harry shivers at the coldness of the new touch. She ghosts softly over the waistline herself and smooths the fabric until she’s pinching a small amount on each side. She hums, pulling back from Harry and looking at the fit of them now, examining whether that makes them look better.

Then she nods and smiles up at Harry, “Ever the slender waist,” he grins right back as she admires him. She knew how much he liked praise and she was happy to give it to him, especially when he was so deserving. “I’d say size down, but then your thighs and bum might strain the fabric too much.” His face turns to a smirk as she blushes at her words. She releases the fabric and takes a hand to pat Harry’s smooth chest before walking back to her seat on the lovely couch.

“You sure you don’t want to try anything on, Y/N? Saw some killer boots when we walked in that screamed you.” Harry calls from behind the curtain, presumably getting redressed. Her laugh comes through the curtain slightly muffled, yet still a sweet melody in Harry’s ears.

“Definitely not now, we’re leaving any minute. Plus, I’ve got plenty of Gucci boots, don’t even show me them or I’ll be tempted.”

His laughter rings through the curtains, loud and unrestrained. She smiles to herself, unable to discourage the pleasure that weaves through her at the sound. His presence in all the different ways she experienced it was instantly comforting.

When she arrives back to her London flat, she practically flops on her couch once she’s inside the door. Her luggage forgotten at the door, as she shrugs off her coat. It was around 7 am because she had chosen to take the red eye for some reason. She groaned as she thought about the day ahead of her. Even though Harry was halfway across the globe, she still had plenty of work to do. She had to finalize the outfits for the listening parties now that they had the pants to complete the looks. Then she had to start thinking about Harry’s December appearances. She had sent ahead his Late Late outfits that he had needed in Los Angeles for the pre-filming, but she still had to deal with the outfits for the live part of the show.

Today, she was set to go pick up the other pieces needed for the listening parties as well as items for the Graham Norton Show and Jingle Ball. She was most excited for her travels because that meant looking at brand new clothes that were perfect and gorgeous. She also knew she needed to spot clean Harry’s shirt, which didn’t spark as much joy in her tired mind.

The idea of the shirt staining with alcohol was what brought her out of her snuggling with her comfy couch. Sure, it couldn’t get that bad, but still she was a worrier and it would pain her if the iconic shirt got ruined. She padded back over to her luggage, now without her jacket or shoes. Her major suitcase got flipped on its side and she began to unzip it. It came open easily seeing as it was stuffed with her clothes and various items. She had to rummage a minute for Harry’s shirt that seemed to have run away inside the bag. Finally, the large white shirt made itself known and she grasped it happily.

As she looked over the stain near the collar of the shirt, her eyes traveled to a piece of fabric peeking out of her suitcase. It was a familiar blue, cream and white. A specific fabric she would never misplace, would never not recognize. Harry’s plaid Bode jacket. It was iconic and she loved it, but why did she have it in her suitcase. She definitely didn’t mean to have it, it’s genuinely just one of Harry’s jackets so it wouldn’t make sense for her to bring it back with the show's wardrobe. She tries to think back to yesterday, when she was still in New York. Thinking about why she would have it, she places the memories of Harry coming to her room, taking off his coat, and accidentally leaving it in her room all fit together. She must have just absentmindedly placed it in her suitcase without even realizing. She’s sure Harry wouldn’t mind, she’d shoot him a text, though, to tell him she had it. So he wouldn’t worry about whether he’d lost it or not.

When she gets ready for the day, she finds herself being drawn to blue and cream. Her outfit is understated and she just knows the jacket would finish the look. She loved that jacket and now that she had it, would it be a big deal if she wore it out. She figured it was fine. After she grabbed her purse, keys, and other essentials, she slipped on the coat. Harry was very broad shouldered and it hung oversized on her. She loved the look and snapped a selfie in the mirror before she headed out. While it felt a little narcissistic to constantly take photos of herself, she felt like as a stylist it was important to document her looks just as much as she documented her clients.

What she didn’t think about is just how much the rest of the world liked to document her client and those who were seen with her client. She didn’t think about how she had just been seen with Harry yesterday. That thought didn’t even cross her mind as she walked around the streets of London picking up her work. As she saw some photographers out and about (whom she assumed were for famous celebrities, not her). How it might seem with her wearing the Bode jacket Harry had worn on SNL two nights ago. The Bode jacket that there were only two of.

None of it crossed her mind. Not until it was the end of the day and she had a whole slew of texts from Harry’s manager. A few from Harry, and others but the other fifteen were solely from Jeff. She was a bad texter so as she walked into her flat and finally looked at her phone after putting down all of her garment bags her eyes went wide.

Please tell me you’re not out in London right now!

What are you wearing??

That cannot be Harry’s jacket Y/N

Seriously?

Please call me.

CALL ME. NOW.

- All from Jeff.

She grimaced. The others from her friends including Harry would have to be ignored right now. Even if Harry was her boss, Jeff was who she had to deal with when it came to public appearances and it didn’t seem like she could get around this one. Normally, she never had to deal with him, but it seems today wasn’t normal.

part 2

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wowweeharrystyles · 5 years ago

Text

Part 7 | London & T Shirts | 6.4k words

‘Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Masterlist

a/n: thanks for the week of grace, friends. I really appreciate it. FINALLY here’s part 7 !

“Listen, I know I’ve said this a lot,” Aurora starts as Harry walks into his dressing room. She’s sitting on the couch, legs propped up on the coffee table and her tour lookbook in her lap. “But tonight’s suit is my favourite.” Harry groans and then chuckles. “Harry! Listen, this one isn’t a normal suit. It’s on the same level as the Palamo pinstripe.” Aurora meets Harry’s eyes and he’s instantly reminded of that night in Spain. His eyebrows rise up in question. “Shut up.” She says with a small smirk. “But the baby pink velvet with the gold beading and the gold trouser stripe. The fact that Alessandro loved it so much he made it in black too and then I convinced Lambert that they should be used to mark monumental nights of your tour.”

“That was your idea?” Harry asks as he sits down on the couch next to her. Aurora hums a yes. “Why London and LA?”

“You really wanna know?” Harry nods. “It's the O2 for crying out loud, and then London, it’s your home. LA, the final show, your other home.” She answers as she puts her book to the side and grabs for one of Harry’s hands. She laces her fingers with his and looks up to him. “What?” she questions the look on his face.

“You really thought of all that when deciding those 2 suits?” She nods this time.

“Not just those 2, all of them. Made sure the suit matched the show.” Harry brings their intertwined hands to his lips and presses a kiss on the back of Aurora’s hand. Harry shakes his head, not knowing how to express what he’s feeling so instead he just pulls Aurora in for a kiss.

“So what colour are we painting your nails this time?” Aurora asks once they’ve settled back into the couch.

“Black, again,” he says with a smirk.

“Really?” Aurora asks in disbelief, sure he was going to pick a brighter colour.

“Mhm, it’s like I’ve got a piece of you on stage with me.”

Aurora huffs, unable to hide the smile that takes over her face.

They situate themselves on the floor of his dressing room. Aurora sits in the empty space between Harry’s outstretched legs. With a knee of her own propped up, she sets Harry’s hand on it and begins to work on his nails. They’re both quiet and neither of them mind. They’ve tuned out the chaos that is happening in the rest of the arena. Aurora knows this is why Harry asked for her to do his nails. A moment of calmness. A moment away from being the center of attention.

All last night and this morning, Harry had been getting calls and texts and emails about people’s excitement mixed with a handful of stressful ones from Jeff or any member of his management team. Aurora had to convince him that turning his phone off for a while was okay and that there was no need to worry about something someone else can take care of. She also reminded him that everyone will still be excited to see him in the morning, that those texts will still be there. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help or reply to his friends. It’s that Harry doesn’t know when to stop sometimes. Last night they were sitting at a local pub, a place where Harry’s a regular and even though his phone was on silent and he was trying his hardest to pay attention to the story Aurora was telling, he couldn’t focus. Aurora realised quickly that Harry doesn’t transition well between being “tour harry” and “just harry.” Bringing his work home with him doesn’t help either. Aurora made that comment in reference to herself and he really didn't’ appreciate it till later. When he went to say goodnight as he opened the car door for Aurora he did laugh about it with a loud chuckle, the joke finally clicking in his head.

The pulse at his wrist changes, bringing Aurora out of her own thoughts.“What’re you thinking about?” She asks as she grazes his pulse point with the pad of her finger. They’re so close that she can hear the rhythm of his breath speed up too.

“Oh nothing,” he answers, brushing away the question.

Aurora holds the polish bottle and brush in one hand and sets the hand she’s working on on her knee. With her free hand she reaches for Harry’s chin and tilts it just right so he has no choice but to look at her. He sighs. “You can tell me anything, you know that right?” Harry nods slowly. Aurora presses a soft, lingering kiss to his lips before going back to painting his nails.

As she switches hands, Harry sighs again. She looks up to him through her lashes then back down to his nails and polish.

“Nervous as hell.” It’s not a full sentence and that’s how Aurora knows how truly nervous he is. He goes to brush the bottom of his nose, another nervous habit, but stops himself unsure if he’ll mess up the polish that is drying.

“That’s understandable,” Aurora offers. His lashes fluttered, almost like he was surprised by her response. “It’s a big show, well 2 big shows. I think I’d be concerned if you weren’t a little nervous.”

“You know, anyone else would’ve asked why I’m nervous. They would’ve told me I have no reason to be.” Aurora hums.

“You may have sold out the O2 arena for 2 nights but that doesn’t make you superhuman. The way I see it, you being nervous about these performances shows how human you are. How humble you are. How much you care and how much you love your job. There’s nothing wrong with being nervous.” The words are true and Harry should know all of that.

Harry leans his head down and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Thanks for understanding and thanks for saying that.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Aurora smiles at him.

“Girl who keeps her word.” Aurora raises an eyebrow at him in question. “You said that on the first night of tour. That’s what I’m here for,” he repeats back to her. “After you talked me through my nerves then.”

“Don’t like seeing you like this I guess” she whispers as she continues to paint again.

“What?”

“You’re always so calm,” she sighs now, “so when you’re stressed or nervous I can just pick up on it really fast. Feeling nerves or stress is never fun. I just hope I can help calm you back down, at least a little bit.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologizes softly, like his feelings are a burden.

“Hey, don’t be sorry,” she assures him, pausing from painting the next nail. “I just don’t think many people pick up on it, which is probably what you want. You’re good at hiding it,” Harry nods as Aurora continues. “I don’t know what it is, but I can just tell when something is off,” she goes back to painting again. “I think it might be because I used to, well still do I guess, I used to hide my nerves or anxiety so nobody would make a fuss over it. Just kind of brush it under the rug and move forward. It’s a familiar feeling.” Harry doesn’t say anything when Aurora finishes. “I don’t mean to overstep… can’t help but notice, is all.”

“You’re not overstepping,” Harry quietly responds. “I’m not used to having someone that can read me this well. It’s nice.” His lips press together into a small smirk. They meet eyes for a brief moment then Aurora goes back to finishing the job at hand. “What’s so familiar about it all?”

The question stumps Aurora for a moment. She searches her brain for a moment trying to think back to the small gestures and change of behavior that she picked up on.

“Well, you know, you always do this thing where you brush your nose. You do it a lot actually,” she giggles, “it’s not always when you’re nervous. Sometimes you’ll do it when you’re uncomfortable or unsure of something. I’ve seen you do it thousands of times during interviews.”

“Ah, yeah, that I've done since I was little. Never been able to break that habit,” he laughs.

“Makes sense, but I think it’s the fact that you just go quiet all of a sudden. I do that too. I shut down, which you don’t necessarily do. You’re always there, just a bit quieter than normal.”

“I get in my head a lot, don’t want to bother anyone,” he confirms solemnly.

“You’re not a bother to me,” Aurora reassures him. “Okay! All done! They’re still tacky, but I’m done painting.”

“Thank you, Ror.”

“No problem,” she says with a smile, setting down the polish.

“Not just for painting my nails-”

“No need to thank me for anything else, Harry.”

Aurora packs up her nail supplies, zipping the bag and setting it out of the way. Harry’s admiring the fresh polish on his nails as he moves back to the couch, sinking into the cushions.

“Alright?” Aurora asks, sitting down next to him. Harry just shrugs his shoulders. “When’s your next time commitment?”

“I’ve got sound check in an hour, I think,” he says, his voice trailing off a bit.

“Okay, come here then,” Aurora says as she moves her body towards the other side of the couch. She leans herself against a pillow and gets comfortable, patting her lap once she’s settled. “Come on, no need to do anything else right now, yeah?” Harry nods hesitantly.

Once his head is resting on her lap she lets her hand fall to his hair. It only takes a few runs of her fingers through his hair for his eyes to close. Aurora can tell he’s not actually asleep by his breathing that is still not steady and the light flutter of his eyelids when she grazes her nails lightly against his scalp soothingly.

“Told my mum when I got home last night.”

Aurora hums in question.

“Told her that we made it official, that you’re my girlfriend.” Aurora’s hand freezes for a moment, a smile sneaking up on her face. Harry opens one eye to look up at her. “Hey, don’t stop,” he whines. Aurora rolls her eyes and takes her hand out of his hair completely. “Please, Rory,” he continues to whine. She sighs and goes back to the movements in his hair. “Thank you,” he says with a smile, eyes closed now. “Told Gemma and Michael too, texted Jack. Told him everything. He thought it was hilarious.” Aurora huffs at the comment. “When I told Mitch this morning that you were my girlfriend officially all he said was ‘duh’. And then Sarah made a comment about how she’s excited that she doesn't have to 3rd wheel Mitch and I now.”

Aurora’s laugh fills the room. It’s light and carefree. Harry joins in, enjoying the moment. His nerves subside for the next hour. It’s hard to think about anything going on outside of the quiet dressing room when Aurora has her hands in Harry’s hair, both of their laughter filling the space every so often and the innocent kisses they trade back and forth. If it weren’t for Harry’s reminder on his phone, they would’ve easily lost track of time and stayed in that dressing room forever.

“How’re you doing now?” Aurora asks as they stall at the closed door. Harry shrugs his shoulders just like earlier. “What can I do for you?” She asks, her hands softly resting on his jaw, fingers sprawled towards the back of his neck. He shakes his head. Aurora tilts her head at him. “Babe,” she pleads.

“Rory, I’ll be alright. I promise. The nerves aren’t gonna go away-”

“I know that.”

“-but I’m feeling much better. Thank you,” he says as he squeezes her waist. Aurora shakes her head before pulling him down so she can kiss his lips properly.

| | | | |

Aurora catches a glimpse of Harry as she’s walking from craft services to Clare and Sarah’s dressing rooms. He’s meeting some fans from Rays Of Sunshine and she does a double take when Harry poses for a photo with a little girl. She slows her walk down to enjoy this brief moment, a bright smile reaches her eyes. Just before she makes it out of eyesight she sees the little girl point at his painted fingernails and she can hear Harry’s sweet laugh as she takes the last step out of eyesight. Her cheeks pink up slightly to no one but herself, until she hears her name coming from a newly familiar voice.

“Hi Gemma!” Aurora greets her with a one handed hug, holding her tour lookbook in the other hand, while (surprise surprise) balancing a fresh cup of coffee too.

“How was your day yesterday?” Gemma asks as they walk down the hallway. “Oh it was… good. Spent most of the day watching Criminal Minds and ordering room service. Definitely needed the day off to regroup and relax.”

“I love Criminal Minds! Is this your first time watching it?” Gemma’s eye’s light up at the connection. She walks with Aurora as she continues through the hallway again.

Aurora laughs, “1st time? More like the 10th time, probably.”

Gemma joins in with Aurora’s laughter, “Oh finally!!! Now I have someone to obsessively talk to about it. Michael doesn’t love it, but he’ll watch the new episodes with me every week. He’s definitely annoyed with my love for Spencer Reid.”

“Wait, Gems! Ah Gemma, sorry,” she corrects herself. “Harry soley refers to you as Gems.”

She laughs again, “It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Aurora offers a look of thanks.

“Anyways, Spencer Reid is the love of my life,” she continues with a smile.

“Same here!” The two girls laugh with each other.

“How was being home?”Aurora asks when their laughter stops.

“It was nice. I go home to visit mum a lot but it’s always so great when Harry’s home too. Really feels like home when he’s there.”

“That sounds really nice.”

“How’re you holding up?” Gemma asks picking up on the longing in Aurora’s voice.

“Oh, I’m doing fine. A bit homesick, but that’s expected yeah?” Gemma nods along. “I haven’t really lived at home in years but touring is different. I think it’s not having a permanent home that makes it hard.”

“Yeah, I remember the first few times I traveled along on small bits of tour, it was weird. Sometimes it feels like a vacation but then others it feels like everyday is like starting a new life… if that makes any sense?”

“Yeah, it does, actually,” Aurora agrees as she turns into Sarah and Clare’s dressing room. “It’s like there’s not enough consistency day to day because it isn’t always show day and then a day off. Everyday you’ve gotta be on top of it. And it’s so hard to not just be lazy when you have down time to get rest because you wanna go see everything.”

“Yes exactly!! I hadn’t traveled much until Harry started touring. It was so much fun to go to new places. Have you traveled a lot?”

“Not really, grew up in New York so visiting the city wasn’t a huge deal and traveled to other big cities in the US for dance competitions growing up. When I studied abroad as CSM, that was the first time I had left the country. Had to get a passport for it specifically!”

Gemma hangs out with Aurora while she gets the clothes ready. They talk about college, or university as Gemma calls it. They share their favourite movies - Aurora has a sweet spot of 80’s romcoms but loves a good thriller and Gemma despises indie films that are slow paced, but really loves any comedy that will make her cry from laughter. Gemma shared a few touring pointers and promised that next time they’re in the same city they’ll get coffee without Harry and have a girls spa day or something.

Aurora is beside herself when Gemma makes another comment about how happy Harry seems. But this time she adds that it definitely has something to do with her being around.

| | | | |

“How’re you doing, rockstar?” Aurora asks as Harry walks towards her, ready to change into his suit.

“I’m good, excited!” he answers as he strips out of his track pants and hoodie, then the white t shirt as well.

“Good,” Aurora comments with a smile.

“Like what you see?” Harry says obnoxiously.

“Harry, shut up and just put these trousers on,” Aurora retorts as she hands him the slim black trousers trimmed with gold.

As Harry buttons his white shirt Aurora grabs his boots from the box and hands them to him when he’s ready.

“You know, those old gold boots you used to wear would’ve been incredible with this suit.”

“You would remember those boots.”

“Heart of gold and boots to match,” Aurora recalls back to him. Harry’s eyes pop and his eyebrows rise up. “Iconic tweet by your mother, honestly. And too true.”

Aurora follows him into the connected bathroom, baby pink velvet jacket in hand. She hops up on the counter as Harry goes through the rest of his routine. She stays silent, listening to him hum to himself and riff off a few vocal warm ups. Aurora runs her fingers along the gold beads and sequins on the jacket, remembering their first fitting.

“I think we’re thinking about the same thing,” Harry says as he puts toothpaste on his toothbrush.

“That first fitting during prep week.” Aurora states because she knows he’s right. Harry nods.

“Crazy how fast things can change, isn’t it?” Aurora hums in acknowledgement, continuing to run her fingertips across the beading.

“Harry!” Anne’s voice calls through the dressing room. Harry’s in the middle of brushing his teeth so Aurora responds.

“He’s in here, Anne!” She calls, inviting her in.

“Oh Aurora! Happy to see you again” she says, pressing a light kiss to her cheek and giving her a bright smile. Anne’s less guarded towards Aurora today and Aurora relaxes again, slouching on the counter top. “Some things never change,” Anne comments as Harry finishes brushing his teeth. “He’s always done this. Before every show he’s ever done. Even shows back in primary school,” she tells Aurora.

“Mum, please, let's not share any embarrassing childhood stories just yet. Only made it official last night,” Harry winks at Aurora. She rolls her eyes.

“Honestly, Harry, you don’t hide much and I’ve seen you on stage every night this tour. Think that’s embarrassing enough.”

“Hey!” he whines and Anne laughs along with Aurora. “You and Gemma both can’t be friends with Rory if you’re going to pick on me all the time.”

“Harry, someones gotta pick on you, I told you that. Too many screaming fans night after night, gotta keep you humble.” Aurora counters and receives a high five from Anne.

Once Harry’s done they head back into the dressing room. Aurora helps Harry slide into his jacket. They both hear the shutter sound of an iPhone camera and Harry whines at his mom for taking photos but she just brushes it off as all moms do. Gemma and Michael join the 3 of them as they walk from Harry’s dressing room towards the main bit of backstage.

“Aurora, honey, are you joining us again?” Anne asks.

Aurora looks to Harry and the split second of his eyes meeting hers she can tell he doesn’t want her to go just yet. “I’m gonna meet up with y’all in a little bit. This jacket has been giving us all kinds of trouble and I just need to make sure all the beads are really secure before Harry goes on stage.”

“Of course dear, we’ll see you in a little bit then.” Anne gives Harry a kiss on his cheek, a hug and smile. Gemma and Michael both wish him luck. Once his family is out of earshot Harry speaks up.

“Thanks for staying back.”

“Technically, it is my job to be right here.”

They exchange a soft smile before Harry’s band joins them. Aurora steps back after she adjusts Mitch’s jacket and Sarah’s shirt. She hangs out off the side, sitting on a big crate, her small sewing kit sitting next to her. The jacket is fine. The beads aren’t gonna fall off, at least not until the very end of the show. She’s here for Harry right now. She watches as they do their pre stage rituals as a band. Helene takes a photo of them as a group and then his band is off, making their way through the double doors to the stage.

Harry makes eye contact with Aurora and she joins him.

“You good?” she asks for what seems like the millionth time today.

He hums, reaching for her hand and squeezing it.

“Harry!” Jeff calls as he walks up to him. Harry takes the hand that’s holding Aurora’s and pulls it behind his back. He wants Aurora close, he’s making that clear to her without any words. He’s face to face with Jeff, Aurora is standing behind him, their hands still intertwined, resting at his lower back. Aurora squeezes his hand to let him know she’s not going anywhere. “Ready?” Jeff asks when the stage manager and the rest of the sound crew approach Harry.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Harry answers, no nerves evident in his voice. Another squeeze to his hand.

They walk through the double doors, a security guard lights the way in front of the small group with a flashlight. The sound crew goes ahead and gets to their places after confirming that Harry’s mic pack is on and ready to go one last time. Jeff says his good lucks and is out of sight in seconds.

“Good luck, rockst-” but she can’t finish the word ‘rockstar’ because Harry cuts her off.

“I know you said no the other night cause you didn’t want to overstep with my mum,” the words come out quick and Aurora has to really focus to understand him and tune out the rest of the hustle that is happening around them, backstage in the dark, “but will you come home with me tonight? Back to my house? Not my mums, but my house? Back to my house. Here. In London.” Harry blurts out the question repeatedly. “I should’ve asked earlier but-”

“Yes,” she answers without thought.

Aurora’s answer doesn’t sink in right away but when it does Harry’s brain can’t decide what to do. “Really?” comes out of his mouth with a short laugh of disbelief, his arms fly open and pull Aurora into a bear hug. He’s smiling ear to ear, dimples indent his cheeks, his nose scrunches and his eyes crinkle at the corners. Aurora thinks she’s being held by sunshine when he relaxes into the hug, pressing a quick kiss to the side of her head. She’s warm and feels safe and wants to ingrain the image of Harry in her head forever. Real life, actual sunshine is staring back at her. “Really?” he asks again when he meets her eyes.

“Yes, really. I’d love to,” Aurora says loud enough to be heard over the screams but quiet enough that just Harry can hear it. Harry grabs her face in both of his hands and kisses her hard.

Aurora laughs when they pull apart just as fast as they were brought together.

“Lipstick!” she exclaims through a laugh. She thumbs at his lips wiping away any lingering colour that stuck to him. “You really shouldn’t be going on stage with a lipstick mark…” Harry rolls his eyes. “Good luck, Harry,” she says trying to push him in the direction of the stairs.

“You are something else,” he says in disbelief. “I’ll see you after the show, Rory!” he yells as he runs up the stairs. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth one last time before making his way to his spot at center stage, behind the screen.

| | | | |

It’s an early night compared to others and Aurora never thought she’d find herself here. She’s stepping into Harry’s car, Harry holding the door open for her before rounding the front of the car to step into the driver side. The car hums to a start, the stereo playing on a low volume. Harry smiles at Aurora briefly before he focuses on the road and pulls away from the arena.

“Mind if I?” Aurora asks, gesturing to the stereo controls

Harry pulls his phone from his pocket, unlocking it and handing it to Aurora, “It should be playing from apple music, but Spotify is there too.”

Aurora is surprised when he hands her the unlocked phone but she doesn’t question it. She opens spotify and searches for her own profile. Scrolling through her playlists she finds her driving playlist.

“Not going through my photos are you?” He jokes.

“Of course I am,” she jokes back. “Trying to find the perfect- hah! Here it is!”

An acoustic guitar opens the song and Harry knows the song instantly. River by Leon Bridges fills the speakers. He reaches out his left hand in search of Aurora’s that sitting in her lap now. Aurora lets out a sigh of adoration as Harry brings her hand up to his lips and kisses her knuckles. Tucking her lips between her teeth, she hides a smile. Harry lets their hands fall to Aurora’s lap. She plays with the rings that still adorn his hand and stares out the window, enjoying the London city lights.

When the song ends she speaks up, “I’m really excited to see that song live when Leon Bridges opens for you. It’s always been one of my favourites.” Harry doesn’t say anything but instead gives her hand a squeeze before the next song on the playlist plays.

The car ride feels like another world. Driving around London, nothing but empty roads and city lights in front of them, Aurora feels on top of the world. Even in the darkness of the night, the darkness of the car, Harry feels like sunshine. Pools of light fall from his eyes, his smile. They seep through his skin and warm aurora from the inside out.

As Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World continues to play in the car, Aurora allows herself to glance over at Harry who is focused on the road in front of him.

| | | | |

“Welcome to my home,” Harry says sweetly as he opens the door for Aurora to step through. After closing the door behind himself he taps a few buttons that are near the door, the flashing red light turning green. He switches the hallway light on as he knocks his shoes off by the door, pushing them off to the side. Harry helps Aurora out of her coat and hangs it up with his. He walks past her, switching on a few other lights and the house begins to illuminate. Harry doesn’t say much, just points out different rooms, not making a spectacle of the surely multi million dollar mansion he calls home.

“It’s beautiful, Harry,” Aurora compliments as they make their way through another hallway. Aurora feels cozy. It feels like Harry, this entire place, regardless that he isn’t currently inhabiting it for the time being, feels like home. Aurora’s heart swells at the photos on the walls of his mum and dad, step dad, pictures of him and gemma from christmas morning when they were little, one of them at Gemma’s graduation and then a few photos of him and the rest of the boys, Louis, Liam, Niall and Zayn are scattered throughout the wall too. There are photos never seen by the rest of the world and Aurora smiles at each one.

“Here, you can wear this,” Harry says as he turns back to Aurora after rummaging through one of his drawers. Aurora is still mesmerized by his closet, the closet that is probably the same size as her first apartment in NYC. “Oh, you would find that,” he says matter of factly when he sees her running her hand over the black and white floral suit that hangs among some of the other suits.

“Harry, this suit,” she states in awe. “God, I loved this suit.”

“Hey, can you be my girlfriend for one second and not my Head of Wardrobe?” Aurora turns around to him.

“That was 2015 Aurora who had your band’s posters up in her childhood room not your head of wardrobe,” she corrects him. Harry’s eyes widen before he lets out a bark of a laugh, like he’s caught off guard. “What?” she asks through a small laugh. He steps forward towards her and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Nothing,” he says when they meet eyes, shaking his head. “Here,” he says handing her the forgotten t shirt in his hand.

“What’s-” she stops herself from finishing her questioning. She hadn’t thought this far ahead. There’s no way she’ll sleep in her jeans and her suitcase is back at the hotel. The empty hotel room. “Thanks,” is all she says as she stares at Harry’s t shirt that is now soft in her own hands.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” she laughs to herself, “guess I didn’t think about this, should’ve grabbed something from my suitcase.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind,” he says with a shrug. “Let me go grab a spare toothbrush for ya.”

“Oh! I have mine in my purse actually,” Aurora says, “keep all that stuff in my purse when I travel.” Aurora turns towards the door. “I think I set it downstairs.” She hesitates at the door, unsure of where to go find it, they took a few turns to get to his closet, surely she’ll get lost. Harry chuckles at her frozen in her own steps.

“Let me go grab it for you.”

As Harry dashes out of the room, his feet sounding down the stairs, Aurora allows herself to have a moment. Today had been so crazy she hadn’t had time to overthink what tonight would bring. When Harry asked her to stay with him at his place she was caught up in it all. She was so proud, so enraptured, so warm and fuzzy. There was no way she could say no to him, to those green eyes that were begging her to say yes. There was no reason for her to say no. She’s not ready to sleep with him.

Before she can figure out what to do or sort out her new thoughts, he’s back, purse in hand and directing towards his bedroom then motioning to the ensuite bathroom. Her chest feels heavy and so does the cotton shirt in her hand. Nerves make her heart thrum against her ribcage. Harry hums to himself as he gets out his face wash from the cabinet next to the sink. His humming starts to drown out Aurora’s own heartbeat in her ears. He hands a clean washcloth to Aurora.

‘Thanks,” she says with a soft smile. She fumbles around in her makeup bag looking for the familiar container of her cleanser. She pauses for a moment when she’s found it and takes a deep breath, dropping it back in the bag. “Harry,” she says barely audible, facing him, hip pressing against the counter. He hums a response. Her voice shakes slightly, “I-I-”

He takes his focus from the bottle in his hand and brings it to her, his eyebrows dipping together in the middle, concerned, “Everything alright, Ror?”

“I,” she takes a deep breath, “I’m really happy I’m here right now, but I just need you to know that I’m not ready, not ready to-” Harry nods, knowing where this is going. “-to have sex with you, yet.”

“I hope you know I had no expectations for that tonight… just ‘cause you’ve come home with me doesn’t mean you’re obligated to do anything.”

“Oh I know that,” Aurora clarifies, “but I wanted to be honest with you. Truthfully, it didn’t cross my mind until you handed me one of your shirts.” She giggles, looking at her hands. “Just need to tell you, that I’m not ready, yet,” she adds, emphasizing the word yet. She doesn’t want it off the table completely.

Harry sets the bottle that is still in his hands on the counter before taking the 2 small steps needed to close the space between them. He pulls Aurora into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders. She can feel him ghost his lips on the crown of her head. Relaxing into his chest she snakers her hands around to his back and up, resting her hands on his shoulder blades. Aurora pulls away after a moment and presses a kiss to the skin peaking out near the collar of Harry’s sweatshirt.

“I’m so tired, don’t think I could get it up, regardless,” Harry says with a straight face when they pull apart. Aurora’s jaw drops and she whacks the back of her hand against Harry’s nearest shoulder. “What?” Harry asks through a loud laugh.

“You’re just so, so, ugggg,” Aurora rolls her eyes and goes back to her makeup bag.

They both wash their faces while making eye contact here and there in the mirror. Harry knocks his hip against Aurora’s when he starts brushing his teeth. She giggles as she adds toothpaste to her brush. As she starts to brush she knocks her hip against his now. They giggle, their mouths full of toothpaste. Harry at home. This is something she could get used to.

“Need anything, darling?” Harry asks as he makes his way to his bedroom. “I’m gonna go set the alarms downstairs.” She nods her head no. She gives him a small smile as he walks out, closing the bathroom door behind him, giving her her privacy. He’s sweet and careful and purposefully is giving her a moment alone. She brushes her hair into a loose braid then taps a light layer of chapstick on her lips. She unfurls the cotton shirt Harry gave her to wear. It’s a faded black tee with a Rolling Stones graphic printed on the front. She’s seen him wear a handful of t shirts just like this all equally worn and tattered.

The shirt is soft against her bare skin and the hem tickles the top of her thighs where it falls. It smells like harry and she’s comforted by it. A small smile finds a permanent home on her face as she folds her clothes into a pile. Holding them to her chest she opens the door to find Harry setting down a glass of water on each of the bedside tables. Aurora sets her discarded clothes on a chair that’s tucked away in the corner of the room and then takes a moment before she turns around. She can feel Harry’s eyes on her and when she turns around they travel up her body. Harry walks over and rests his hand at Aurora’s waist, giving her a chaise kiss on the lips before going back into the bathroom himself, a pair of grey joggers in his hands.

Aurora busies herself with finding an empty outlet to plug her phone in for the night. Deciding to sit on the bed, she notices it’s most likely Harry’s prefered side as it has a small clock there, a stack of books and a small silver bowl where his rings are now. Her eyes are drawn to the top book from the pile, recognizing the author as the writer from Rolling Stones magazine. She opens the Rob Sheffield book and begins to skim through the first page. When she hears the door open up again, the light from the bathroom goes out, and she’s met with Harry walking towards her.

His sweatpants are hung low on his hips, the band of his boxers peeking out at the top, Aurora can’t help but stare. It’s not like she doesn’t see a version of this almost everyday but it’s different. Aurora blindly sets the book back on the nightstand so she doesn’t have to look away. She feels frozen to her spot on the bed as Harry walks towards her.

“You’re a dream, you know?” Harry says softly as he reaches down to hold her face in his right hand. Aurora closes her eyes softly as harry’s thumb rubs soothingly against her cheekbone. When she opens her eyes, she pretty much eye level with the butterfly tattoo that sits at the top of his stomach. She told herself that one day if she were ever here, she’d trace his tattoos for as long as he’d let her. So she does just that. Her hands wrap lightly around his ribcage as her thumbs brush against the wings of the tattoo. She can see her hands trembling a bit when she goes to trace the laurels that peak out from his boxers. The strong sound of her heartbeat resurfaces to her ears and she pulls away her trembling hands. Harry pays no attention to that though. Instead, he takes her head in both of his hands and leans down to catch her lips.

The nerves that once flooded her chest are far gone as their legs tangle underneath the sheets. Aurora can’t think of anything but the way his bare skin feels against hers. Her, well his, t shirt is slightly hiked up past her hips after Harry’s hands slide underneath to roam her skin, fingers pressing into the fleshy parts of her hips. Aurora pushes him on to his back, lips never losing contact and their hips melting into each other. Harry’s hands rarely stop moving, exploring the newly found bareskin on her back, under her shirt.

They slow down eventually, both of them too tired to continue their movements. Aurora’s head rests on Harry’s chest. Sleep comes quickly after they share a lazy kiss one last time for the night.

Aurora startles herself awake a few hours later. She’s still not used to waking up in new places and this happens often every night. Harry must feel her move, there’s no way he couldn’t with the way their bodies are tangled together. He doesn’t wake, or at least doesn’t wake enough to say anything or rustle the sheets at all. He does squeeze around her waist a bit tighter, bringing Aurora back closer to his chest. She lets out a soft sigh before falling back asleep, breathing in time with Harry’s slow heartbeat that taps against her back.

Thanks for reading !!!! comments & feedback ALWAYS welcome & reblogs help a TON. LOVE YOU MEAN IT.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #sequins & zippers #aurora on tour #harry styles fanfiction #one direction imagine

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