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cherryyharryy · 7 years ago

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Here’s one of the answered prompt list drabbles:)

I’m not sure how I feel about it though😬

And on a side note, I feel like an idiot, because I was searching high and low for ‘pretty please beautiful’ before I realized you were talking to me, anon😊😊😊

Word count: 2106

“It’s midnight, where the hell are you?!”

“I don’t care if you don’t want my help, I’ll do it anyways.”

Five hours. It’d been five hours since he’d heard her voice, and seven since he’d seen her. And he spent every minute of those past five hours kicking himself and sending out pointless wishes of if I could just go back to this morning.

And that’s when everything started, in the morning, why the past seven hours have had Harry near tears and his hands ready to pull out his hair.

***

A typical Saturday morning now that tour was over, entailed Harry and Y/N sleeping in and arguing over who’s turn it is to make breakfast, pestering each other while they got ready until it was only rational for them to shower together after all the water wasted while Harry did his best to entice her with a strip show as the room filled with steam. And then whatever their schedules were for the day were carried out smoothly.

But there was something in the air this morning. Because Y/N didn’t have to open her eyes to know it just going to be one of those days. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't as perceptive.

The chill in the room wasn’t cozy and the rain pelting the window wasn’t calming. And her mind wasn’t going to let up today.

“What d’ya want for breakfast petal?”

Y/N grunted into her pillow, adjusting her legs and arms to sink further into the bed. “Nothin. M’not hungry.”

“What?” he chuckled, “since when have you turned down my French toast? I’ll add the chocolate chips even.”

“No thanks.”

“C’mon,” he drawled out, leaning down to nuzzle into her side. His fingers danced over her side, up and down her arm and towards her neck. “Please?”

“No Harry.”

“Whip cream. I’ll add a spoonful of whip cream.”

“No.”

“Two spoonfuls.”

“No.”

“What about—“

“No! I said no, alright!”

Harry’s hand was back at his side and his face wasn’t hanging on to the last bits of sleep any longer.

“Love, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I’m just not hungry.”

Now Harry knew better. They’d both had mornings where an appetite just wasn’t going to happen for an hour or so, and when she’d just needed a little more sleep she had no problem in saying so, along with her warm body nudging closer to his to keep him beneath the covers as well. But he decided to give her her space and went about his morning.

***

The day creeped on, and each time Harry stepped into the bedroom to check on Y/N she was still buried under the blankets and pillows. He only received hums and muffled grunts when he asked if she wanted anything, and one harsh no when he brought up lunch.

He had a meeting in the afternoon that kept him occupied for too long, especially when his texts to his girlfriend of almost two years went unanswered. And really he started to think the worst, when ideas of what could have possibly got her so down when she was fine the night prior invaded his head.

But nothing was as bad as the turmoil that erupted when he came home to an empty apartment, no note to be seen with only her voicemail willing to talk.

“Hey baby, just wondering where y’are. I’m here if y’wanna talk. You know that right? You can talk to me about anything—”

“Harry.”

“Y/N! Oh I was so worried,” he sighed. “Kept gettin’ your voicemail—”

“I’m fine, Harry. There’s pasta from last night in the fridge.”

“Wait, you’re not coming back? Where are you?”

“I’ll be back later. Just needed to be alone for a bit.”

He had to do a double take to see that she had in fact ended the call. And when she didn’t pick up on his next three attempts he had to talk himself down from hopping in the car and driving around to her usual spots.

He slumped down on the couch, still wrapped in his heavy jacket, phone in hand as he stared at the TV's blank screen. “Fuck.”

***

He had to of done something. Said something maybe, or maybe it was something he didn’t do. Had to be. He scraped over every last detail of last night and into the morning, trying to find out what’s triggered this reaction out of nowhere from his girl, but he came up empty.

He truly liked the dinner she’d cooked and made sure to tell her. She hadn’t seemed put off by the movie he chose and when the credits were rolling and his hands wandered over to her side of the couch, there wasn’t any indication that she wasn’t thinking anything different.

He lost count of the messages he was filling her phone up with and was losing the battle between whether or not he should call one of her friends or even her mom. But once the eleven o’clock news caught his attention and the first story was a kidnapping, he grabbed his keys and jumped in his car.

***

“Come on, Y/N, pick up.”

“Harry—”

“No!” The rain was a pending death sentence and Harry was hunched over the wheel, trying to make out where the road was in what had to be the beginning stages of a flood. “Are you kidding me, Y/N!? You’re gone for hours, at night, without so much as a text to let me know you’re alive. So don’t think about hanging up on me! This is ridiculous. It’s midnight, where the hell are you?!”

“Don’t scream at me! I don’t have to account for every movement I make to you!”

“That’s not what—ugh! Alright, alright,” he took in a breath and pulled over into a gas station, slouching into his seat as he steadied his voice, “just tell me where y’are.”

“Harry—”

“Please baby, I’m worried sick. Please let me come get you. We don’t have to talk, just, come home. Please.”

With a heavy sigh she agreed, mumbling out the address of the Starbucks she was sat in.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, please don’t go anywhere.”

***

Harry was drenched to say the least. Uncomfortable was an understatement, and the thought of having to pry his clothes off from his frozen skin made him want to cry. And a lot of his exhaustion was based on the panic he’d been in, but one look at Y/N with her head leant against the glass window of the booth she was curled up in put his misery to shame.

“Hey angel.”

She rolled her head over, eyes nearly swollen shut with tear tracks staining her face. “You weren’t calling me that earlier.”

“I know, I, I was just scared. Took it out on you, and m’sorry.”

She nodded, pulling the sleeves of her jacket over her hands. “Did you eat?”

“Y/N…” Harry slightly shook his head. “I know I said we don’t have to talk, but I can’t help ya when I don’t know what’s happened.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Well, I don’t care if you don’t want my help, I’ll do it anyways.”

Her laughter never joined his, so he fell back to plan B, clearing his throat and dragging his hand through his sopping hair. “What about we go home, I’ll run you a bath, then we can go to bed. And if you wanna talk, I’m all ears.”

She blinked a few times before giving a nod and climbing out from the booth. Harry had a million questions sitting on his tongue, but he kept them at bay, at least until he knew it wouldn’t deter her from wanting to be with him.

The ride home was in silence, as was the elevator ride up to their floor and the monstrosity of a task of removing their soaked clothes, until y/n, much to Harry’s surprise, broke the quiet.

“I dried all up in that booth,” she whispered, “only to walk under that awning like an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.”

“No, you’re right, idiots don’t go out in the pouring rain at night to walk through the city. A complete and total dumb ass does that.”

“Hey,” Harry scolded, pulling the last of his T-shirt over his head. “Don’t wanna hear you talk like that.”

She shrugged and sat down on the edge of the tub that was filling with water to yank her jeans past her knees.

Harry bit his lip and dug through their basket of collected bath salts and bombs, picking the rose scented pair and headed back to the tub.

“S’ready, love.”

He stepped out of his boxers and into the tub once she was settled in, resting against the cool linoleum and pulling her back against his chest. His arms wrapped around her and she laid her head back humming in content.

“Smells nice,” she murmured.

“Mhm. We’ll have to stock up.”

Y/N let out a few sighs, opening her mouth to spill out the mess that’d been raging in her head, only to have the strength to release heavy exhales.

“Take your time, petal.”

“It’s just a lot,” she spit out, a wet cry not far behind if Harry knew any better. “Just, I don’t know...everything was weighing on me this morning and I couldn’t shake it.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “Wanna tell me what was hittin’ you so hard today?”

“Everything. I’m struggling to keep a B in two of my classes and I’m trying to save up for Christmas gifts, I got into an argument with my sister the other day so she hasn’t talked to me. And now that your home from tour, it’s just been hard. And I can’t explain it. I just have days where I’m sad and wanna have a pity party for myself.”

“You’ve seemed fine—”

“I know!” She barked. “I always seem fine! I have to seem fine because if not then everyone’s in my business. Or our business! God forbid I bring my hand to my head and everyone’s freaking out! I have to keep the peace somehow! And—”

“Hey, hey, breath darling, deep breaths for me.” He smoothed his hands down her shaking arms and kissed her head. “There you go.”

The sob that he’d been waiting on broke the air, wet and brittle. “I’m sorry.”

“No apologizin’, okay? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

She nodded against his hold as he wiped tear after tear off her cheeks, hugging her a little tighter.

“I feel like, like now that you’re home, I have to keep up everything and it’s wearing me thin.”

Harry’s face twisted up and he leaned his head over to catch her red eyes before they darted away. “What d’you mean?”

“Just—just, trying to keep everything perfect. It’s exhausting.”

“Perfect? Baby, I don’t want you to feel like you have to have all the responsibilities around here. We’re a team, remember? S’that why you’ve been cooking almost every night?”

She nodded once more. “Everything just hit me today for some reason. You bust your ass on tour for months, and I don’t know what you expect when you come home.”

“Y/N, y’know what I expect? I expect for my partner in crime here to be herself. I expect that our lines of communication are open and judgment free. I expect at least one day-old load of laundry still in the dryer after I got distracted thanks to you wandering around here in nothin’ but my sweater. I expect our microwave dinner burnin’ ‘cause we fell asleep on the couch watching some horrid film. I expect for us to be late to school or work or wherever it is that we’re supposed to be at least twice a month because the bed’s just too warm.”

The faintest of smiles was growing on her face and the tears had stopped trickling from her eyes. Harry could feel her body relax and lose its tension as he kissed along her shoulder.

“So you’re okay, with no perfect?” She murmured.

“Everything is perfect, love. I don’t want boring. And I know you don’t either. And I especially don’t want you killin’ yourself to try and make it so.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he agreed, laying his lips across her cheek. “How ‘bout we get out and climb into bed. This water’s startin’ to feel like the rain.”

“Yeah.”

Once they were dried and all the lights had been turned off, they slipped under the covers. Harry pulled y/n towards his side, bringing his hand up to run circles into her back, smiling against her hair when she let out a content sigh.

“This, right here is perfect,” he mumbled. “Couldn’t ask for anything more.

#let me know what you think #or not...#because I'm not too sure...#anyways #Harry styles #writing #answered prompts

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