#harry styles fake text message

[avatar-anna]

Unknown Number

someone made a request about reader accidentally being given harry's number, but i accidentally deleted it, so if you requested it, here it is!

(the text chain will be from harry's point of view)

italics: y/n (unknown number)

bold: harry

Part Two

Part Three

Unknown Number (UN): heyy. i had a really good time the other night. maybe we could do it again sometime? xx (click to download image)

Harry Styles (HS): How did you get this number?

UN: you gave it to me?

UN: last night at the pub? marcus, right?

HS: No. You have the wrong number.

UN: is this a joke? are you fucking with me right now?

HS: No.

UN: oh my god

UN: i feel like such an idiot

UN: one of the first times a guy gives me his number at a bar and he gives me the wrong number

UN: probably on purpose too

UN: i should've known when he left his OWN APARTMENT the next morning but i was actually hopeful

UN: and now i've made an ass of myself here too. sorry to bother you i'll leave you alone. sorry again

(one hour later)

HS: It's okay. Sorry about that guy. Sounds like a jerk.

(twenty minutes later)

UN: it's fine, i guess

UN: i wasn't in love with him or anything but he could've had the decency of expressing his disinterest himself instead of hiding behind a fake number.

HS: That is quite a dick move.

HS: I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't expecting that text. I didn't open the picture either by the way.

UN: thank you. for a moment i was worried i was messaging a creep, but hopefully you're not a creep

UN: i mean you could be still and i'd have no idea

UN: maybe i should stop texting you

(ten minutes later)

HS: I'm not a creep.

UN: that's exactly what a creep would say

HS: I don't really know how to prove it to you. You're the one who sent me a photo of yourself half naked. You could be the creep.

UN: you said you didn't open it!

HS: I was trying to be polite!

UN: great now some 40 year old living in his parents basement has one of my nudes

HS: I'm not 40! And I don't live in my parents basement

UN: you text like an old man

HS: wuld u rather i txt like ths???

UN: no but i'm just saying i don't know many people my age who use proper punctuation in text messages

HS: Well I might not be your age, but I'm certainly not 40

UN: "certainly not." you're right. you sound like my grandpa

HS: I suddenly regret restarting a conversation with you

UN: you know despite the fact that you might be catfishing me, i've enjoyed this. i feel like i'm doing what all the other teen girls did in high school at sleepovers

HS: So you're out of high school.

UN: creep!

HS: You outed yourself, that's not on me.

UN: you...might be right

UN: can you tell me something about yourself to make it even? there's always a possibility that you could be lying and i have no reason to trust you, but...idk i feel like i can

HS: Well that's stupid.

HS: But I suppose since I've already seen you partially naked...

UN: i'm blocking your number

HS: My first name is H, and I'm 20 years old.

UN: h? just the letter h?

HS: You could be a creep too for all I know

UN: fair enough. i'm june

HS: Full name? Wow, you really are a dummy.

UN: don't get your 60 year old panties in a twist. it's a nickname

HS: June is a nickname?

HS: And I'm not 60.

UN: june. june bug. that's what the folks call me

HS: Folks? Now who sounds old?

UN: whatever

(thirty minutes later)

HS: Well, it was nice talking to you, June. June bug.

UN: you too h

(three days later)

June (J): you're a guy right?

HS: I'm sorry?

J: well when i first texted you i thought you were a guy, but you weren't THAT guy, so i have no idea

J: i just assumed but i thought i would ask

J: plus i need solicited guy advice and if you're not a creep i would really appreciate it

HS: We're back to me being a creep?

J: it's a risk every time i text you

J: so? are you a dude?

HS: Yes.

J: great! can i ask you something?

HS: Um...I guess...

J: ok. would you ever get offended if a woman covered their drink during a conversation with you?

HS: I'm not following...

J: like say we're at a bar and we're talking and i turn my head away for some reason but i put my hand over my drink until i look back at you to prevent it from being spiked. would you be offended by that?

HS: No. Why?

J: see? i don't think that's unreasonable. some loser got mad at me for doing that. well EXCUSE ME for not immediately trusting the guy i matched with on tinder

J: who was not as cute in real life i might add

HS: You don't have the best taste in guys.

J: that is not advice!

HS: Okay, here's my advice: don't swipe right on guys who have mirror selfies in their profile.

J: ...

J: ok fair enough but it's not like prince charmings are falling from the sky. it's hard out here

HS: I'm sure.

J: what you don't have the same problem?

HS: I don't really date.

J: in like a douchey way? are you one of those guys who say they just fuck?

HS: I just don't have time for dating, I guess.

J: so no special someone?

HS: No.

(four hours later)

HS: If you asked for advice, does that mean I can too?

(one hour later)

J: sorry i was at work

J: and i don't see why not

HS: What do you think about guys who wear skinny jeans?

J: hm...i think styled right it could be nice

J: YSL is kind of pushing the whole skinny jeans and chelsea boots thing which might eventually trickle down to the losers i match with on tinder so...why not? i say dress how you want

J: any guy who has a good sense of style is sexy to me

J: sorry if that wasn't the answer you were looking for

HS: Yes and no. I've been experimenting with different styles. Sometimes I get a little in my head about it.

J: doesn't everyone?

HS: I guess you're right.

HS: Do you follow fashion shows and things like that?

HS: That's not too personal, is it?

J: no, but it's kind of embarrassing

HS: Not as embarrassing as sending a complete stranger a picture of yourself in your bra

J: harsh...but fair

J: fashion is kind of my religion

J: i'm trying to become a stylist. keyword trying

HS: That's cool!

J: tell that to my family

HS: they don't support you?

J: nope! but i'm gonna do it anyway!

HS: Do you have a favorite designer?

J: it kinda depends on the year and who was creative director at the time, but the first time i got my hands on vintage vivienne westwood i was hooked

J: you?

HS: I'm just starting to explore the fashion world I guess you could say.

J: well lucky for you i happen to be a bit of an encyclopedia when it comes to house codes

HS: House codes?

J: oh boy. i hope you're comfortable. we might be here a while

(two days later)

HS: Have you ever had rumors spread about you?

J: i don't think so

J: oh wait! in eighth grade this girl in my class told everyone i made out with a boy at the school dance which was NOT true

J: it was just a peck

HS: Naughty.

J: it was harmless. why do you ask?

HS: There's a rumor going around about me. It's just frustrating when people actually believe it. sometimes it gets to the point where i start to believe it myself.

J: i'm sorry. i won't pry or anything, but i know what it feels like to not be understood

HS: I just hate the feeling of being under a microscope. It's exhausting. I feel like my life isn't my own sometimes.

J: that sucks

J: sorry that was in no way helpful, but i don't really know what to say. is there someone you can talk to about this?

HS: ...

J: oh! i actually feel kind of honored

J: well, obviously i don't know the whole situation, but maybe try and surround yourself with people who don't scrutinize you so much?

HS: Easier said than done.

J: true but i think if you have a solid group of people who know you and understand you and like you for who you are, it's easier to deal with things like rumors and being under the proverbial microscope, you know?

J: and don't be afraid to get rid of the toxic people in your life! it's not easy but you'll be better off in the long run

HS: sometimes it's hard to tell who's toxic and who's not

J: start with the people who would never believe a rumor about you, or the ones who would never START one about you

HS: Well said, June Bug.

J: thanks! maybe i should entertain a career in counseling

(one month later)

HS: Why June Bug?

J: i was born in the summer. it was a nickname my grandparents gave me. been called that ever since

HS: That's sweet.

J: there are worse nicknames i suppose. i have a cousin that got stuck with chip because he used to stuff his face like a chipmunk when he was little

HS: Yikes.

J: you're telling me

(three weeks later)

J: have you ever danced alone in your bedroom to stevie nicks?

HS: Have you?

J: i have, and can i just say she does NOT get enough credit as a songwriter?

HS: Edge of Seventeen?

J: edge of seventeen

J: i went on a date last week with a guy who had the AUDACITY to call her music mediocre

HS: You didn't see him again did you?

J: ...

HS: June!

J: just once! and only because he had really nice hands

HS: I don't get how that would make you stay with a stevie hater...

J: REALLY nice hands ;)

HS: You disappoint me sometimes.

J: ;))))

(fifteen minutes later)

J: hey you never answered my question about dancing in your room!

HS: ...No comment...

(one week later)

J: you ever been in love, h?

HS: I can't say that I have. Have you?

J: no ://

J: i think i want it too much. i've always just been in love with the idea of falling in love, you know?

J: but the reality isn't what i thought it would be

HS: I'm sorry.

HS: It probably won't help but I'm sure you'll find someone. You seem like a great person. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.

J: aw h you're making me blush!

HS: But perhaps you should stop looking for love on a hookup app

J: annnd good feeling gone

(two weeks later)

HS: Guess who has two thumbs and got invited to Paris Fashion Week!

J: no fair!

J: and that joke doesn't work if i can't see you point to yourself. it doesn't work period

HS: I will let that slide because I know you're just jealous.

J: are you kidding me? OF COURSE i'm jealous! i can't believe you get to see Alessandro Michele's work up close

HS: Who?

J: don't think because we only communicate through text that i can't strangle you

HS: Relax. I'm only joking.

HS: Alessandro is a friend ;))

(ten minutes later)

J: sorry i just had to scream into my pillow

J: what exactly do you do again?

HS: I told you. I work in the industry.

J: but that could mean anything! the cosmetics industry, the movie industry, the meat packing industry...

HS: Meat packing?

J: you know what i mean!

HS: I do a lot of PR.

J: see. that wasn't so hard now was it?

HS: Can I go back to gloating?

J: only if you promise to give me a full report afterwards you go to all the shows

HS: Deal.

(four days later)

HS: Favorite movie?

J: that's hard...

J: it's probably cliche but the devil wears prada

HS: Good choice.

J: what about you?

HS: The Notebook.

J: really?

HS: Yes. Why?

J: do you say that to impress girls or because it's actually your favorite?

HS: Would you rather I have said a film with lots of car chases?

J: no

J: but i went out with a guy who was a film major once

HS: Is that a bad thing?

J: let's just say it won't be happening again

J: he thought he was superior for disliking popular movies. i hate that

HS: Well, I love The Notebook and I love Ryan Gosling

J: now THAT is something we can agree on!

(six weeks later)

J: BIG NEWS

J: LIKE HUGE

J: GROUNDBREAKING

HS: And here I was thinking you forgot about me.

J: i texted you yesterday

HS: You asked me if my dick could move on its own.

J: a legitimate question! i nearly had a heart attack when i saw it in person

J: but i was also weirdly fascinated. my question was purely scientific!

HS: You said you had news?

J: right!

(twenty minutes later)

HS: Are you making me wait to create anticipation?

J: no sorry i got a phone call.

J: i got my first real gig as a stylist

HS: That's great! Congratulations!

J: thanks

HS: You don't sound excited anymore. What happened to all caps?

J: my mother happened

HS: Still not on board, then?

J: she told me it was a waste of time and that i should get a real job

HS: You're still gonna take it though right?

J: i don't know. maybe she's right. the pay is less than ideal. more like i'm being paid in experience, and it's not the clientele i was imagining...

HS: But it's a foot in the door, right? That's something.

J: i guess

HS: Make connections. Get good references. And who knows, you might actually enjoy yourself.

J: you're right.

J: it's for some up and coming band that's going on tour. pretty sure i was what they could afford

HS: Don't sell yourself short. You're gonna do great.

J: thanks. i hardly even know you and you're currently my biggest supporter

HS: What happened to Bill?

J: ancient history

HS: What was wrong with him? He seemed nice.

J: yeah

J: his girlfriend thought so too.

HS: On behalf of all men: Sorry. We truly are the worst.

J: agreed. what about you? still single?

HS: Yes, though people keep trying to set me up on dates.

J: the horror!

HS: Ha ha

HS: I just want to meet someone on my own terms.

J: i get that

J: i just want to meet someone who's actually a decent human being

HS: I'll be on the lookout.

(three weeks later)

J: i think i've decided that tour life is not for me

HS: oh?

J: yeah. sitting on a bus for hours and hours with only myself to keep me company? no thanks

HS: it can't just be you on the bus can it?

J: no but i have a hard time making friends right away. and a lot of the crew for this tour are older than me

HS: are your clients nice at least?

J: yeah. one of them tried to hit on me, which i guess i should take as a compliment, but i am on the clock. no flirting for me

HS: a professional then. or are you not into the musician type?

J: not sure. i haven't dated one before

J: i told you that the other day

HS: right. must've slipped my mind

HS: but back to taste in men. is it all about looks for you or do you like funny guys?

HS: are you the type to sleep with someone on the first date? because i feel like that's very telling about a girl

J: who is this?

HS: what do you mean? it's me

J: it's not. you're not texting like a middle aged woman and you're acting like a total ass

HS: Sorry. I thought I'd try something new. And I was just curious. Can't blame a guy for asking right? You did send some guy you barely knew a picture of yourself

HS: It was very wholesome by the way. Maybe try a little more skin next time and you'll get the response you want. You can practice here if you'd like.

J: oh my god

HS: What?

J: this was a mistake. i'm such an IDIOT

J: was this some kind of prank?

J: whoever you are, you're sick

J: don't text me again

HS: June, I'm so sorry. That was my friend he was just being stupid.

HS: Last time I leave my phone anywhere.

HS: June?

HS: June please.

HS: That wasn't me I swear!

HS: I'm sorry.

(three weeks later)

HS: Day 21 of trying to get you to respond.

HS You probably blocked me which is fine. I don't blame you.

HS: But if you DO happen to read these and are just ignoring me...

HS: I'm sorry. Again. For like the millionth time.

J is typing...

HS: June?

J: i should've blocked you

HS: Why didn't you?

J: because as insane as it sounds, you've become a close friend

HS: I feel the same. I'm really sorry about before. I swear it was one of my mates. I would never say something like that.

J: that's what makes this whole thing crazy! i don't actually know you, so how do i know if i can trust you?

HS: I mean you even noticed that he wasn't texting like me. I would never ask you questions like that, June. I never have.

HS: And I do NOT text like a middle aged woman by the way

J: i guess that's true

J: i think it just doubled down the fact that we don't actually know each other. this whole thing is ridiculous if you think about it too long. it gives me a headache sometimes.

J: i know we've joked about it but...this could be potentially dangerous

HS is typing...

HS: I could send you a voice note.

J: you would do that?

HS: You're right. This whole thing is ridiculous but...I don't know, I trust you, and I consider you a friend.

J: a friend you say?

HS: That's all I'm willing to admit for one day

J: and what about tomorrow?

HS is typing...

HS (voice recording): Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.

(one day later)

Y/n hated how much her stomach flipped every time her phone pinged with a new message.

It was so reckless and dangerous and utterly ridiculous. She didn't know who H was, she didn't even know what time zone he lived in, and yet she felt like she knew him.

And after hearing his deep voice—deep British voice—on the voice recording, Y/n determined that he wasn't some creep in his forties like she'd originally thought.

Since sending that voice recording, they'd sent each other messages like that all night. And by all night she meant all night. They stayed up late sending voice recordings back and forth. It was the longest conversation they'd held to date, which was surprising considering that they often missed each other during certain hours. Just based on what hours of the day they texted the most, Y/n figured H lived somewhere in Europe, which gave her peace of mind considering he couldn't exactly kidnap her if he was a whole ocean away. But the last couple weeks their schedules seemed to be lining up, though Y/n chalked it up to all the traveling she'd been doing lately.

One thing she was certain of was that she adored H's voice. It was soft and deep, but got raspier the longer they spoke. And at times he would whisper in his messages, like he had to keep his voice down. The hushed tones made her shiver.

Y/n didn't call H, and he never offered. But she wanted to, boy did she want to. No matter how terrifying that thought was. A full-fledged phone call seemed more...real to Y/n. With the messages, she and H were still in their little bubble. It was stupid, but she needed that bit of separation. She was becoming attached to someone she'd never met.

Walking through the halls of a stadium in Canada, Y/n pulled up past conversations with H. It was too embarrassing to admit to anyone out loud, but she felt like she really knew him. He was endearing, had a silly sense of humor, had good taste in music, and was honest. Well, as honest as either of them could be. Outside of the one slip up with H's friend, Y/n believed what he said to her over text. Maybe that made her naive, but their conversations were legit. He felt like a friend, and she knew he felt similarly.

Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.

Y/n had no idea what that could mean. She of course knew what she wanted it to mean, but what she wanted rarely ever lined up with reality.

Y/n looked up from her phone to make sure she didn't pass the right door. The one in front of her read, Harry Styles in big bold lettering. She quickly hurried past and continued down the hall to where the dressing room for Five Seconds of Summer was.

Harry Styles was a bit of an enigma. Even though she was on the same tour as him and One Direction, Y/n hardly ever saw him. And when she did, his nose was always in his phone, completely closed off to the world around him. He just had this vibe that said, "don't talk to me," and Y/n received that message loud and clear. The Five Seconds of Summer boys seemed to get on with all the members of One Direction, but Y/n usually made herself scarce whenever they came by the dressing room, for no other reason than too much testosterone in one room.

"You want to come out after the show, Harry?" Y/n heard one of the boys ask. Michael.

"Um...No. I think I'll have to pass tonight, boys. Sorry."

"What? Big date tonight?"

"Something like that."

Y/n felt frozen to the linoleum floor. She knew that voice. She'd spent all night listening to that voice.

"Holy shit."

[bottlesofrouge]

on one condition.

harry styles x original character

part six.

word count: 10.3K

warnings: homophobia!

7 AUGUST 2018

harry isn’t sure if it’s the overwhelmingly pungent smell of burnt coffee or the fact that he was about to see oliver for the first time in a little over three years that had him feeling like he could throw up at any given second. his cheeks felt clammy to the touch, and he even had to put a jacket on in the august heat because he visibly sweat through his t-shirt within the first five minutes of sitting at the small booth. (the queasiness was definitely oliver related, but the sour smell flowing throughout the small cafe didn’t help.)

to be honest, harry wasn’t really expecting oliver to reply to his message. firstly, because it was sent via facebook messenger and no one under forty uses that (the only exception being to score a killer deal found on marketplace), and secondly, because the message came from harry. when the message sat on delivered for thirty six hours, he felt relieved. it meant he wasn’t going to have to face his wrong doings, and it also meant that he didn’t have to do something he wasn’t sure he was ready to do to begin with.

besides that one moment in the early days of jane’s birthday vacation, harry hadn’t thought about oliver once. instead, his thoughts were filled to the brim with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, sugary sweet lips and warm, freshly tanned skin. he couldn’t help it. lynn was just so… perfect. harry simply couldn’t get enough of her. all the shy smiles sent his way and soft kisses pressed into his skin had him thinking maybe he didn’t miss oliver after all, and the ache in his chest was nothing but a bit of guilt because he didn’t anymore.

harry would never know because the small, heavy feeling was replaced with what was like the weight of a lynn-sized brick as soon as he heard her say that she was still hung up on silas. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t expect it. the look on her face right after everything happened just said it all. the way her smile fell from her lips mid-giggle when she looked at him… it was like she realized just exactly who he was once the post-orgasm fog had faded.

the memory of it makes his chest ache. harry didn’t mean to let it go that far. he would’ve been fine with a few short kisses and an early night, but as soon as she started grinding against him, the ache to please her grew into a pit so big, it should’ve swallowed him whole from the inside out. she could’ve given him her mouth and her throat just like she had offered and nothing would’ve been as satisfying as the feeling of her clenching around his fingers. the heavy whimpers that graced his ears and the hot exhales from her staggered breaths that fanned over the skin of his neck. the way she fell into him and basked in the warmth of his soft praises. she was so perfect, and he was nothing but an idiot to think he deserved her like that. to see her in such beauty. lynn was gorgeous and kind and smart and funny and… and he was just harry.

so, after a heavy cry in the shower and a fake confession, harry texted oliver that night, and thirty seven hours later, he responded. the other boy didn’t say much, only a time and an address. harry was nearly certain that he wasn’t going to show, but when the little bell above the door rings at exactly 10am, he’s proven wrong.

“hi,” harry rushes out as soon as oliver is at his table. “thank you for coming. i got you a lavender latte.”

“i don’t drink milk,” is the first thing oliver says. no hello. no how’ve you been?, and deep down, harry knew he didn’t deserve the fake pleasantries.

“you never have. it’s oat,” and then he’s pushing his untouched latte towards the other boy. “if you don’t like that anymore, mine’s almond. take it. take both, really. i can get you something else, too, if you’d-”

“harry,” oliver’s voice is sharp. a warning almost. “what are you doing here?”

"i wanted to apologize for what i did when we were in high school."

"that's it? that could've been done over text.”

"you deserve so much more than a text message, oliver," and it was true, he did. even if harry would rather be doing anything else, he owed the boy this much.

oliver doesn’t say anything, but he’s staring at harry with a coldness in his eyes that has him on the brink of tears. maybe this is how oliver felt every time he had to pass harry in the hallways. the thought makes a lump form in his throat.

"i'm not here to clear my conscience or get on my hands and knees and beg you to take me back because what i did was horrible, but-"

"did you ever love me or was it just some kind of fucked up joke? something to laugh at in the locker room, i’m sure."

"i loved you so much, oliver. so so so much." if it were any other situation the thickness of his voice might’ve had him cringing in embarrassment. he knew that the way he treated the other was criminal, but harry never thought oliver would assume that every single part of their shared relationship was nothing but a joke for his teammates. "my dad was horrible and i know that your parents would've done anything for me, but-"

"but i wasn't worth it?"

"you were, but i was a stupid kid who wanted his dad’s approval,” harry admits. “i was so angry because why did i have to be born into that kind of family? it was unfair and i was jealous of you and your relationship with your parents and i just... i took it out on you. i'm sorry, oliver."

"okay," oliver dramatically fake yawns like he just finished watching the most boring performance ever put on. "anything else? no begging for my forgiveness? maybe you want to call me a f-”

“no!” harry’s hands slam down on the table, stopping the boy from finishing his sentence. 

oliver only smiles. “not even for old times’ sake, ma jolie?”

harry’s stomach twists at the old nickname. tears he’s been trying so hard to keep in finally spilling over. oliver started using the phrase when they were in their shared French I class. it was before they even started dating, but the two had started spending more alone time together. oliver would wake him up with the words tickling his skin, and harry let it go on for over a month before he finally caved and asked their teacher what it meant. 

my pretty.

"i already figured that we would end the way we did when your dad saw us," oliver sighs. "i just hoped you were better than that."

"god, i was so horrible, ollie. i just…,” harry’s voice falls. his fingers are gripping the edge of the table so hard, his knuckles turning white. “you know i was religious. i couldn't understand why the god i worshiped made me into something that he hated,” big, thick tears are falling from his eyes, and his nose is so snotty, he can feel it running down to his lip. the sight must’ve been crazy to the other patrons in the shop, but harry didn’t care. he’d do it a hundred times over if it meant there was a chance he could prove himself to the boy. harry really did love him.

“i would come home from school and pray on my hands and knees begging him to fix me. i wanted to be worthy of my family's love so badly. if i had met you ten years from then, knowing what i do now, you would've been more than enough. i'm sorry i didn't realize that. i wish i was better to you, oliver. but nothing i do or say now will ever make what i did go away and i'm sorry.”

"i know,” the tone of his voice matches the way his features soften. the cold stare long gone. “i forgive you.”

"you don't-"

"i'll never know what it's like to grow up like that. my roommate is going through the same thing, and i should've never expected you to face that at 17. you were just a kid."

harry doesn't know why he feels the urge to cry again, but his eyes are watering and his throat is burning. he's blinking so fast, but the tears are still pooling, and as soon as oliver sees he's moving from his side of the booth and sliding in next to harry.

he can feel the boy’s lips against his hair and the side of his head, and harry doesn't really know who initiates it, but there’s soft kisses on his lips, and it feels so nostalgic. almost like coming home.

harry presses his face into the boy's neck when they pull apart. his eyes are closed, and he is just so focused on taking oliver in. he smells different. kind of. the cheap body sprays he had purchased as a teenager were no longer there, but harry could still pick out the gain original scent stuck to his shirt.

"i'm so sorry," his words are muffled by the boy’s skin, but the way ollie runs his thumb between his shoulder blades lets him know they’re heard. god, even his touch felt the same.

"i'm glad you texted," oliver says after a moment. “and i’m sorry for being a prick earlier.”

"don’t be," harry pulls away to offer him a smile. “i deserved it.”

"i still think about you, harry,” his knuckles reach to wipe the remnants of tears stuck under harry’s eyes. "i know how everything ended, but like i said, we were kids, and you loved me in a way i don't think i'll ever experience again."

"oliver..."

"im not saying anything will come out of it, but maybe you'd like to get to know each other again?"

"yeah," harry only smiles, trying his best not to explode. "i would like that very much, oliver."

✮✮✮

lynn swallows hard at the sight of the woman sitting in front of her. she looks nearly the same as the last time she saw her years ago, the only difference being the huge, shiny rock on her ring finger and her rather large baby bump. seeing her like this feels weird, lynn thinks. 

of course, she’s happy for the woman, but lynn can’t help but feel a little bit of burning jealousy make its way up from her stomach all the way to her throat. she didn’t want to be married, and she definitely didn’t want to be pregnant, but seeing her like this… it reminded lynn of how the world continues to turn for everyone else while she still feels glued to the same spot. it was like she was in a game of monopoly, only the child who once claimed her as their piece became uninterested halfway through, and now she was forced to watch everyone pass GO a hundred times over while she sat in the tattered, old box, collecting dust.

“lynn,” dr. agard is the first to speak. “it’s nice to see you. it’s been a while.”

“three years, i think,” her voice feels so small as she leans into the plush pillows on the couch. “and evelyn’s okay now. if you want to go back to using that.”

she watches as her doctor writes a quick note, “i see. any reason for the change?”

lynn shakes her head, “not particularly. i just heard it again for the first time recently, and i don’t know. it didn’t make me cry until i threw up.”

“that’s good,” the woman smiles at her warmly, and it’s too much. lynn has to look away.

when she looks at dr. agard, she sees herself. the both of them share the same shade of blonde hair and blue eyes. the only difference being the fact that the doctor either wore hers straight or pulled away from her face in a way that never had a hair out of place. if she were to take her contacts out, lynn thinks that it would be just like looking in a mirror.

she wonders if this is what her life could have been like if anything were to have turned out just a little bit differently. maybe if peter didn’t have an affair with her au pair, she would’ve known what it was like to have two loving parents. perhaps then she wouldn’t have practically cheated on luke with her stupid neighbor. she’d have a college degree and a ring on her finger and a successful job and maybe a kid or two or three or—

when she blinks, dr. agard is looking at her expectantly. 

“i’m sorry,” lynn says. “what did you say?”

“i asked why you decided to come back.”

"i, um," she clears her throat. "well, i met someone."

"that's exciting," the woman smiles at her as her pen glides across the paper. "how long have you two been together?"

"we're not," lynn feels herself slipping away again. her fingers pick the loose thread hanging from the bottom seam on her shirt, and she moves all of her attention down there. she couldn’t look dr. agard in the eye and tell her what she’s done. "we just... i don't know. i like being around him."

"why's that?"

"he's easy to talk to, and i feel like myself when we're together," her teeth chew at the inside of her cheek. "the version of myself that i was before everything."

"lynn," her notepad comes down and she's looking at her with worried eyes. "we've talked about this. you can't put your healing in the hands of other people."

"i know, i know. it's not like that," but wasn't it? she couldn’t sleep through the night unless harry was pressed against her. she’s been home for a week, and she hasn’t been able to close her eyes without a heavy dose of melatonin (nearly twenty milligrams if anyone cares.)  "i want to do all the work because if there's ever a time that he feels the same, i want to give him the best version of myself. i don’t ever want him to feel like i rely on him."

"what do you think is going to happen if that time never comes?"

lynn would spend night after night with her face pressed into the pillow he had used a singular time until his scent went away. she’d probably wear her pretty blue dress like it was a second skin while she laid in bed trying to remember every curve of his body and every line in his skin.

she’d get on her knees, and pray to a god that she doesn’t even believe in. she’d ask him to fix it. to make harry change his mind about her. and when that wouldn’t happen, she’d probably lay on the floor with nothing but her fresh tears warming her body. she’d stay like that for hours. days maybe. and then she’d finally get up, wipe her face, and move on.

“i actually came today to see if you could maybe give me a referral for the place you sent me to last time,” lynn admits. “you know, the wellness center in connecticut.”

“i’d prefer to talk to you a bit first,” she says. “i could give you one maybe in a few sessions, but right now-”

“please,” lynn begs. “please. i feel just like i did last time.”

“how did you feel last time?”

“crazy,” it’s meant to come out as a joke, but her the tone of her voice has a bit of a serious edge to it. “i feel normal, i guess, but at the same time it’s like i’m not in control. i don’t know if it’s because i haven’t been sleeping or if it’s because of him, but i feel… not right.”

“how long have you had trouble sleeping?”

“thirteen. maybe fourteen.”

“two weeks isn’t that-”

“months,” lynn clarifies. “over a year.”

"oh, god. evelyn,” dr. agard can’t even hide the shock in her voice. her mouth is open, and the pen she’s holding makes a thump when it falls against the notebook. “why didn’t you come sooner?”

"because i felt like i could handle it," lynn smiles sheepishly. “and i didn’t realize how bad it had gotten until i met him. please, dr. agard. i wouldn’t be asking if i didn’t feel like i needed it. it helped so much last time.”

"at least you're aware," she says. "i’ll give it to you on one condition. i want you back here weekly."

“deal,” and lynn can’t help the grin that takes over face when dr. agard hands her the signed referral form.

19 AUGUST 2018

lynn parks her car a long four block walk away from the bakery. she usually starts her sunday shifts in the morning, sometimes even as early as seven. there was always an abundance of parking spaces and she loved beating the summer time farmer’s market crowd. 

however, this morning was spent in dr. agard’s manhattan office. after lynn insisted on moving her weekly sessions down there in fear of anyone seeing her, the woman asked to see her for an emergency appointment. apparently, she wanted to figure out just what lynn meant by that.

so, she didn’t want harry to see her walking into the building in the middle of their little downtown area. sue her. lynn didn’t really want anyone to see her if she were being honest. there was a little embarrassment that came with the fact that she had to go away again, and she preferred to keep it to herself. and silas. obviously. she told him everything.

the weeklong stay at connecticut’s finest wellness center was exactly what lynn needed. when she was there, her one on one therapist (her name was penny and she was lynn’s favorite) taught her some helpful techniques when it came to dealing with her crippling insomnia. none of which involved a boy with soft, brown curls and warm lips being in her bed.

penny also reassured lynn that her borderline infatuation with harry was normal. he was the first new person she felt safe around in a while, and she had to learn to separate that from her actual feelings towards him. she had also said that lynn was projecting an idea of the man she wanted him to be onto him. sure, he was kind and sweet, but that was only when he wanted to be. who’s to say that things wouldn’t go right back to how they started between them as soon as they spent some time together outside of sunny florida?

so, she didn’t love him like she had told penny on her first day there, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a crush on him. of course she did. he’s harry.

lynn stops at her favorite coffee shop that sat a block away from her bakery. when she was understaffed and worked the night shift alone, she would trade the baristas freshly baked cupcakes for large soy milk lattes. honestly, she wasn’t really sure if the coffee was even that good. the staff was lovely and that’s all that mattered.

“lynn,” the teenage girl behind the counter named nora greets her with a smile. “i was starting to think you moved away. soy latte?”

“always, and i was just out of town for a bit,” lynn laughs, digging through her purse for her wallet. “come by after your shift and i’ll send you home with all of my fails.”

nora cheers, tapping away on the computer screen. “just two dollars today. gave you my discount.”

“i’ve got it,” lynn turns around to see harry standing behind her. he’s got two bags of coffee beans in his hand and he steps forward to set them on the counter. “these, too. thank you, nora.”

“harry,” lynn can’t stop the smile from growing on her lips. “hi.”

“hi, honey,” he gives her the close-lipped, soft smile that she absolutely adores. the one where the left side of his mouth curves just a little higher than his right. lynn leans into the warmth crawling up her neck and spreading to her cheeks, just happy that someone has this effect on her again. (she learned to appreciate the little things in connecticut, too.)

“you two know each other?” nora’s voice is quieter, and lynn thinks it’s faintly laced with shock, too.

“s’my girlfriend, nora,” harry mumbles as the machine beeps, signaling for him to take out his card. when he looks up, nora’s looking back at him with her jaw nearly on the ground. “y’alright, sweetheart? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“yeah, um,” lynn laughs at how flustered she gets. “when we’re bored, some of us like to ship our regulars, and-”

“ship?” harry interrupts.

“like pairing people together,” lynn lets herself rest against his shoulder. she missed him, and harry obviously wanted nora to think they were together. “romantically.”

“right. i knew that.”

“a lot of us on the morning shift thought that you two would be cute together,” nora’s face turns red at her own confession. “the girls are going to die when i tell them.”

“we are cute together, aren’t we?” his lips are lost in her hair, and lynn tries her best to remember that he’s only doing it because he has to. because they’re in this stupid, fake relationship. (penny, dr. agard, and her group therapist had all called it a bad idea.) but really, they didn’t have to pretend right now. not in front of nora. maybe harry was doing it because he simply wanted to.

the two leave the coffee shop once lynn gets her latte, and also after they stage a photo for nora to send to the work group chat. apparently, they had a monetary bet on the whole thing, and what kind of people would harry and lynn be if they didn’t help their favorite barista make an extra bit of cash. so, they shared a kiss right outside of the cafe’s big windows, and harry stuck his head back in to make sure the girl got the perfect shot.

the weather feels absolutely perfect as they walk through the nearly-over farmers market. it’s on the way to the bakery, and lynn always finds herself wandering around whenever she has a good enough excuse. sometimes, when some of the staff asks for extra hours, she lets them set up a tent full of freshly baked loaves of bread. it meant that all she had to do was wake up early and bake them, and then she was free of her work duties and could visit nearly every vendor. so, once the ingredients were paid for, lynn split the rest of the profits amongst whoever worked. it was only fair.

harry stops to purchase a bouquet of over-priced sunflowers and lynn stupidly lets herself picture them sitting on her kitchen counter in a vase. she’d put them in the crystal one she inherited from her grandmother. usually, she reserved it for flowers that silas sends her from her favorite florist, but an exception could be made for harry.

"i’m happy i ran into you," he admits when they’re just outside of the bakery. "i miss you."

she looks up at him, "yeah?"

"yeah," he confirms. "i know that trip was a lot. figured you needed your space for a little while, but i wanted to see you."

"are you free for a little bit?"

“of course,” his fingers are pinching at the sleeve of her shirt. “i’m always free for you.”

she smiles up at him, unlocking the door to get into the bakery. "come on, then."

it was rare that lynn ever let anyone sit in on her sunday shifts. she loves working alone and the peace that comes with having nothing but her poorly crafted spotify playlists to keep her company. it brings her back to when she’d spend summertime weekends listening to music and baking for her sisters, reminding her of how she even fell in love with baking in the first place. 

she leaves harry in her office while she changes into her baking clothes that were kept in a desk drawer. she's got pictures of amelia and jane and silas taped to her computer, and when she stood up with the folded clothes in her hands, she was reminded that she even added a photo of harry. it was one she took on the trip, and she hoped that he didn’t find it weird. they were friends after all.

“i never got to ask,” lynn’s tying the apron around her waist while harry brings out a chair from the office to join her per her own request. “how did things with oliver go?”

she selfishly hopes he comes back with a frown on his face. he’ll say it was awful. the other boy hates him. nothing good was ever going to come out of it. harry would tell her that the coffee beans he bought were just an excuse to see her, and the flowers were meant to grace her counter top. he’d kiss her like he always does, and then maybe he’d even take her out to dinner.

i mean, he had to, right? why else would he be kissing her head and calling her honey in front of nora? would he miss her and want to see her if he had oliver to keep him company?

harry rounds the corner with a grin on his face, and it wasn’t anything like his normal one. it wasn’t even like the ones that lynn had compared to luke’s sunshine smiles. he’s showing all of his perfect teeth, his dimples practically giant craters on his cheeks. harry just radiates this glow, and it’s like lynn can see the happiness seeping from his pores. he practically embodied sunshine.

“we’re seeing each other again,” lynn has to turn around to face her supply shelf when she hears the words leave his mouth. “dating each other, and seeing where things go. you know.”

“that’s so exciting, harry,” she tries her best to sound happy before she lets herself face him again.

“thanks,” he says, his sunshine smile still on his lips. “i think it’s going to be good this time.”

maybe lynn needs to schedule another emergency session with dr. agard. immediately.

harry sits in her chair, silently watching with one of his legs folded underneath him until his phone rings. the sound makes lynn jump, chocolate batter tipping over on to the counter. he apologizes through a laugh, eyes never really leaving her as he fishes through his bag for his phone.

the mess reminds lynn of when the two of them made cupcakes with the leftover ingredients from jane’s birthday cake while silas opted for a shower. she had gotten chocolate icing on her face, and harry so graciously pointed it out before kissing it off. neither of them said anything, but when lynn purposefully smeared the icing across her lips, he kissed that off, too.

lynn recounted that night hundreds of times in the wellness center and on dr. agard’s sofa. it wasn’t the first time they had kissed when they were alone, and it wasn’t the last, but it was the first time that harry kissed her like he meant it. it wasn’t just soft presses of his lips against hers. he licked and sucked, and her favorite part was when he would pull away and she could feel his opened mouth pressed against hers. there’d be a sharp inhale and then he’d kiss her again. it was like he was trying to stop himself, too weak to ever actually do so.

she wonders if the chocolate mess reminds him of that night, too.

“i’m sorry, mom,” harry has his phone pressed against his cheek. “i know…i know. i just lost track of time. i’ll be there soon.”

it’s quiet for a second, and then his soft murmurs are replaced by the sound of john’s voice blaring through the speaker. harry’s eyes widen, and every time he opens his mouth to respond, john talks right over him. lynn can’t make out much, but she can tell he’s angry, pissed, really, over gemma’s birthday cake. the coffee beans and sunflowers make sense now.

"you alright?" lynn asks when pulls the phone away from his face.

"yeah," he clears his throat. "just... fucking up like always." his words are mumbled, and he doesn’t meet her eyes. she hates that he feels this way around her. "i'm sorry, ev. i should really go before they kill me."

"do you think there's room for one more?" she's standing behind a chocolate cake that she had pulled from the display case the second she heard john’s complaining. a white happy birthday gemma written on across the top.

"evy..." his voice falls when he sees it, and lynn’s stomach flips at the nickname. she wishes he’d say it again. "you don't have to-"

"we can say i insisted on making it. opened the bakery and everything just for the cake. i'll apologize for taking so long. it'll be fine."

"you're not taking the fall. you know how my dad can be.”

she shrugs, "i don't mind. i owe it to you, really. after you had to spend every day at my side. i know how much of a chore that was."

she laughs lightly, teeth finding the inside of her cheek. lynn nervously nibbles, knowing she’s just set herself to be incredibly disappointed. she gets sick at the thought of harry dreading spending time with her. he probably woke up every day on that trip just itching to push her away from him. maybe there was a timer set on his phone, counting down the seconds until he could go home and be far away from her and with oliver instead. dropping her off probably felt like such a relief. like he could finally breathe—

"that trip didn't feel like that to me, blondie. not at all.”

"no?" she looks up at him as his words interrupt her thoughts.

"no," his smile's light, and he reaches to give her upper arm a squeeze. "let me help you clean up."

"you sure? i don’t know if we have time."

“always have time for you, remember?” she wonders if he means it. if he’ll always have time for her even when the other boy is sitting at home, waiting for him.

they take lynn’s car to harry’s parents’ house. harry offers to drop off some danishes and tarts to nora and pick up her car from the lot while she changes into her clothes from earlier, and she lets him. she lets him draw on the pastry box, too. lynn expects something corny, like a thanks a latte written in the center. instead there’s a heart, followed by a rather large l.a.+ h.s. 

her heart beats just a little faster when she sees it.

the car ride is quiet. harry’s got his phone plugged in, shuffling through a few hozier songs that play softly through her car speakers. he hums along quietly, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, and he sounds almost as pretty as he looks. 

it reminds her of the last time they saw each other. he had driven her home from the airport, and lynn spent the entire ride looking for the right moment to tell him just what the night prior meant to her. it never came, and she hadn’t seen him since.

she lets herself think about how different things would be right now if she had. maybe harry would be reaching over the center console for her hand, peppering kisses to her burning cheeks at stop lights, singing along obnoxiously to the songs that played just to annoy her. 

and even if that weren’t true, what would have happened if she had kissed him when he called her that stupid nickname instead of running away? would he have let her touch him? she knows she would’ve given him her throat, just like she had offered. lynn would’ve given him all of her. whatever he wanted, whatever he needed, he would’ve had it.

harry slamming on the brakes is what gets lynn out of her head, and she realizes that this is just what penny meant. her feelings for him grew and grew because of scenarios she made up in her mind, and honestly, she’d never know what harry really thought about that night because he was seeing oliver now. she’d be the worst person in the world if she were to ruin that.

“sorry, evelyn,” harry murmurs, and lynn realizes that he’s got his arm stretched across her chest, pressing her back in to her seat. “wasn’t paying attention. i’m sorry.”

“it’s not any worse than my driving on the way to the airport in miami,” lynn says. “you’re fine.”

harry laughs at the mention of the most stressful drive of her entire life, and then it’s quiet and hozier’s voice can be heard again. 

gemma greets lynn with a hug and a kiss on each of her cheeks. she’s grinning, and thanking her over and over again for the cake. lynn’s baking was her favorite, and she admits that she often finds herself inside of the bakery on her lunch breaks. 

“tell the cashier your name next time,” lynn says. “whatever you want from now on is on me.”

gemma waves her off with a laugh, and it reminds her of harry, “i could never. i already feel bad when nora slips me an extra shot here and there.”

nora. gemma knows nora and that’s why harry was so okay with doting on her in front of the barista. it wasn’t because he wanted to. he had to.

“really, i insist,” lynn feels harry moving behind her. his arm rests on her waist and he presses his lips to the crown of her head. “i owe it to you for showing up empty handed.”

“if anyone owes anyone anything, i should be giving something to you. it’s been forever since i’ve seen harry at one of these things, and i’m certain i owe all credit to you.”

oliver. she owes it all to oliver. it’s been over two weeks since she’s last seen him, and she wasn’t even supposed to be here.

“heeeeey,” harry whines, and his face doesn’t match his voice. instead, he’s got a big grin on it as he leans forward to hug his sister. one arm wraps around her neck and the other stays exactly where it was on lynn’s back. “happy birthday, gem. missed you.”

“i’m glad you’re here, harry,” she turns her attention back to lynn. “and you, too, lynn. thank you for the cake.”

harry guides lynn to the living room, leaving her to relax on the couch next to drew while he got them drinks. gemma’s husband is nice. he offers lynn comforting smiles and listens attentively when he asks her about herself. she’s a bit surprised when he adds in a few questions about harry, but she answers them to the best of her ability, getting the sense that harry doesn’t check in with them as much as he should. 

of course, she tells him that harry’s doing well. lynn chats about their beach vacation and even mentions how thoughtful he was when it came to the dress and dinner reservations. she says he’s attentive and kind, and she loves the way he treats her sisters. when drew asks how his classes are going, lynn’s vague with her answer, only saying that he’s doing well. she’s not entirely sure if he (or gemma) knew about harry’s recent drop out, and she definitely wasn’t going to be the one to let that out.

“i’m glad he has you,” he says it with sad eyes, making lynn furrow her brows. “he hasn’t come around much recently. i think the last time i saw him at one of gemma’s birthday celebrations, he was only seventeen.” 

lynn doesn’t have time to respond because harry’s joining them again, this time with a hard seltzer in one hand and a bottle of water in the other which he keeps for himself. drew switches his attention to harry, and it’s so obvious that the older man cares for him. he asks him questions with actual depth. there was none of that “so…how’ve you been?” bullshit that seemed to be the only thing to fall from the rest of the family’s lips. drew was actually interested in what harry had to say, and even if he wasn’t, he did a damn good job at acting like it.

if he didn’t show he cared enough through his words, his actions did. at least lynn thought so. when his grandmother walked in, her eyes fell on harry and almost immediately, a sour expression took over her face. 

“what’s he doing here?” her voice feels venomous, and lynn can feel the way harry tenses next to her when it falls on his ears. obviously, drew heard it, too. instead of giving the old woman any attention, he simply angled his body to block her out of harry’s sight and continued the conversation like nothing had happened. 

lynn wishes marianne’s mom didn’t have such an effect on him. she can see it in the way his knee bounces. there’s little beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck, and lynn bets she could hear the pounding of his heart if she were to press her ear against his chest. she felt so fucking bad for him.

so, she offers him whatever she can without drawing his attention away from the conversation with his brother-in-law. it starts with a squeeze of his hand before she takes it into her own. she lets her thumb brush against his knuckles, noticing the absence of the rings he usually wears. 

when drew gets up to help set the table, harry slides his hand to lynn’s knee. a smile forms on his lips, and he squeezes once. nothing’s said, but lynn understands it. at least she thinks she does. she kisses his cheek, and harry catches her chin before she can pull away, bringing her lips to his. their kiss isn’t anything more than a peck, but lynn can’t ignore the way the want for him begins stirring up in her belly.

“you alright?” her words are quiet, just meant for him.

“yeah,” her murmurs. “i’m glad you’re here.”

“me, too,” the shy smile forms on his face again and she soaks it up. lynn tries her best to capture this moment, hoping it’s a part of her seven minute long memory reel when she dies. even if it was just a show for his family. “c’mon. let’s go help drew.”

the dinner isn’t entirely unbearable. lynn sits between harry and his mother, and gemma and drew sit across from them. his grandmother is placed next to gemma and across from marianne, and john takes the head of the table. different conversations float throughout the group, mostly centered around gemma, and lynn’s thankful for it because every time harry’s name is mentioned, the older woman either scoffs or mutters something under her breath.

harry doesn’t seem to pay any mind to it at first. he chats with drew and once they run out of things to say, he turns to lynn, wanting to be caught up on all things jane and amelia. he lets out a dramatic gasp with his hand to his chest when lynn reveals that amelia is still texting the boy from the beach, and it makes her laugh. 

it feels like they’re in their own little world at the table as they share hushed whispers and quiet giggles with each other. it reminds her of when they went to the restaurant in florida. their conversation holds nothing of substance, and it feels like she’s actually getting to know him without some kind of depressing cloud looming over them. 

when a childhood story is shared by gemma, she learns his favorite color is yellow, he loves sunflowers (not as much as his sister does), and the two would often spend long games of hide and seek amongst the fields near his grandmother’s house. the story turns into one about the summers they spent there, and his sister recalls harry spending night after night on the floor of her bedroom after they watched monsters inc with tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.

the corners of his mouth are turned downward, and lynn hates that what’s supposed to be happy childhood memory makes him sad. she lets her chin rest on his shoulder, facing away from the rest of the group, “it sounds like your grandma loved you so much then. i’m sure she’ll come around.”

“i hope so,” he murmurs, and it makes lynn want to cry. 

“how about cake?” marianne asks, standing up from the table. 

“ooh please,” gemma says, and then turns her attention to her grandmother. “you’re going to love it, gram. lynn makes the best cakes.”

“that’s what you do?” the old woman asks. “work in a bakery?”

john laughs under his breath, and before lynn can even say something, she hears harry’s voice from behind her, “she owns the bakery.”

his grandmother only hums, and by the look on gemma’s face, lynn thinks that this is the first time he’s spoken to her in a while. her heart thumps at the assumption.

“i’ll take you one weekend,” gemma says to her grandma. “there’s a market, too. it’ll be so much fun.”

“i usually keep it closed on sunday’s,” lynn interrupts, fingers pinching at harry's cheek which earns a laugh from him. “made a special exception today with harry’s help.”

as if on cue, drew walks out with the cake, a brightly lit ‘25’ candle in the center. mari’s singing happy birthday, and the rest of the group joins in. lynn watches with envy as drew slides the cake in front of his wife and then leans forward to wrap his arms around her neck. the action makes gemma grin, and once she blows out her candles, lynn catches the “i’ve already got my wish” that she whispers to him along with a squeeze of his hand.

ugh. when will someone love her like that?

“cake looks delicious, ev,” harry gains her attention with his whisper. “thank you again.”

“y’don’t have to thank me.”

he pats her knee under the table, leaving his hand to rest there while marianne starts to cut the cake and pass around the slices. gemma gets the first, and then drew, and then she holds out a plate to her mother, who rudely puts her hand out and pushes it away.

“not if harry helped with it,” and lynn expects for someone to jump to his defense. to say something. anything. but seconds pass, and no one does.

her shock is probably evident in the way her jaw falls to the floor. even drew, who was just whining about missing harry at family functions, has his attention turned toward his hands in his lap. gemma’s pushes the dessert around on the plate, and marianne is looking sympathetically…at her mother.

“oh, come on, son. lighten up,” john breaks the silence first. “you can’t expect everyone to be so accepting of your lifestyle.”

lifestyle? harry’s touch falls from her leg, and when she looks over at him, her chest fucking aches. she can see the tears glassing over his eyes, rapid, heavy blinking keeping them from spilling over. teeth scrape over his bottom lip, and he keeps his eyes glued to the empty space in front of him.

she wants to pull him into her and tickle him with kisses until he’s a breathless, giggling mess, pushing her away just for a little gasp of air. if it were just them, lynn would let him rest his head in her lap and trace words onto his skin until he fell asleep. he’d leave the next morning with the sentence faintly bruised into his skin. i love you in hues of browns and blues.

of course, she only means it platonically right now, but maybe someday the words would hold more. she selfishly wishes that she’ll be the one to make him forget about every nasty thing his stupid family has ever said about him. that ten years from now, all he’ll know is her and her love, and even if that never happens, lynn hopes that she can prove to him that he’s more than what they make him out to be. that he deserves everything good.

or maybe he’ll find that again with oliver. it didn’t matter. as long as he got it.

“i think i saw some ice cream in the freezer,” gemma says, and then she pushes herself from the table. “i’ll go check, gram.”

“let me help you,” mari offers. she gives harry’s shoulder a squeeze when she walks past him, and lynn can see the way he curls into himself at the contact. god, she wanted to grab the woman’s hand and squeeze it until all of the bones in her fingers shattered.

minutes pass, and when lynn catches a tear finally slip down harry’s cheek, she can’t stop herself from excusing herself to see if the other women needed help. 

"it makes me sick to see the way you guys let her treat him," lynn’s not even entirely in the kitchen when the words fall from her mouth. 

"she's from a different time, lynn,” marianne defends herself, and the tone of her voice makes lynn’s skin itch. she sounds so nonchalant. how can you watch your son be visibly devastated by his grandmother’s words and not say anything?

"who gives a fuck?” she can’t help herself. “he's your son."

"and she's my mother. i could never choose between the two of them."

"except you do, and you never choose him."

"i wouldn't expect you to understand. she's-" gemma starts.

lynn scoffs, not being able to listen to the two of them a second longer, "the only thing i need to understand is the fact that he loves you guys with every fiber in his being, and you both decide to sit back and watch silently as she demeans him. you should be ashamed," she turns her attention to gemma, pointing her finger at the girl as she speaks. "especially you. harry speaks so highly of you in everything he has to say and to sit here and see the way you just turn your head at the things she has to say… i would never, ever let my grandmother talk to my little sisters like that. especially if they came here for me and no one else."

she can taste the saltiness on her lips from the tears she didn’t even realize were falling. lynn’s not sure if its the hurt from hearing these two talk about harry like that or if it’s because her chest is heaving so hard, but she aches. maybe it’s because she knows how badly it hurts, but lynn lets out a sob that she muffles with the back of her hand. she doesn’t mean to, really. harry just deserved so much better.

"can we leave?" his quiet voice behind her makes her jump.

"harry-" it’s marianne.

“yeah, of course,” she moves to him, not letting his mother finish her sentence. “let’s go.”

harry’s already carrying both of their bags in his hand so they leave without saying goodbye to anyone, and lynn couldn’t be more thankful. by the quietness filling the house, she guesses that they all heard her little outburst. maybe she should be more embarrassed by her behavior, but honestly, she doesn’t really care. 

unless harry was upset with her, and by the silence he was offering her…

"i’m sorry," she says once they’re outside. “i overstepped, and-

harry pulls her into him, the rest of her sentence dissolving into a gasp. his arms are around her waist pulling her against him so tightly, she can barely breathe. lynn feels his tears wetting the skin of her neck and the small shakes of his body with every exhale.

“thank you,” his words are pressed into her skin. “no one’s ever…thank you.”

“nothing you have to thank me for,” lynn lets her hands slide up his back until they can wrap around his neck. she’d let him hold her against him for as long as he wanted. maybe if things were real between them, she’d kiss him, too. “do you want me to take you to oliver’s?”

harry pulls away, searching her face as if her question had some kind of hidden meaning. one of her hands move to cup his cheek, thumb stretching to wipe away all of the sticky tears. his glassy eyes are just boring into hers, and lynn wishes she could take all of his pain away.

"i feel like i haven't seen you in forever, evy. could we go to yours?"

and how can she say no when he uses that name. “i have to finish up some stuff at the bakery. we can get chinese on the way if you want.”

“yeah,” harry breathes. “i would.”

so, lynn calls in their usual order at their favorite place when they’re finally in her car. it’s a good thirty minutes out of the way, but she doesn’t really care. there’s a wine store right next to it, and she thinks if she chooses the right parking spot, she could run into both of the stores without harry seeing. 

she drives with one hand on the wheel and the other hand intertwined with harry’s. her thumb runs across his knuckles while he sits in the passenger seat with his head pressed against the glass. he keeps his eyes closed, but the way he tightly grasps her hand anytime she starts to let go lets her know that he’s still awake.

the wine shop is still open when they pull into the parking lot of the little strip mall, so she runs in there first. it doesn’t take long to find the white wine section. lynn could never say no to a chilled glass of pinot grigio, and she knew that harry would happily share the bottle with her without a complaint, but throughout their week in florida, she noticed that he tended to reach for the bottle labeled citruskissed if they had it in their fridge or if they made a stop at the grocery store. so, she gets a bottle of each before making her way to the chinese restaurant. 

while lynn waits for the cashier to grab their order from the kitchen, she can’t help but wonder if harry considers this place their favorite place, too. maybe he told oliver about it, saying ‘lynn and i love this place.’ just like she did with silas. or maybe it was just his, and he mentioned his favorite restaurant to oliver.

whatever. it was a minuscule detail, and it didn’t really matter, but the thought of them sharing something in his mind makes her face warm a little. 

she slides the bags in her backseat before getting back in the car. harry was sitting up right, fingers picking at the skin on the side of his thumb like he was nervous. his eyes were teary again and his bottom lip was red and shiny with spit, probably from gnawing on it.

“i don’t want you to think i didn’t want you there,” harry says before she could even get her seatbelt on. 

“i didn’t think—”

“you did,” he interrupts. “i saw it on your face when my sister said whatever she did about you convincing me to go.”

“i didn’t convince you to go, harry. you were already going, and i practically invited myself—”

“no. no, ev,” he’s shaking his head. “you did. when i saw you with your parents, and how you didn’t let your relationship with them affect your relationship with your sisters. i thought that maybe i could do that, too, and i wanted you there, but…”

“you don’t have to explain anything to me, har,” lynn takes his hands in her own. “i get it.”

“we weren’t talking,” his brows are drawn together, and he keeps his eyes focused on the center console. “i didn’t know how to ask you. i’m just…so embarrassed of the way i let them treat me. i don’t want you to think—”

“i think you deserve better. that’s what i think,” she says. “and we’re friends, harry. i’ll always show up for you, even if we haven’t spoken in a bit.”

“you don’t have to babysit me, you know. you still have work to do tonight, and i don’t want you to feel obligated to hang out with me just because i’m sad.”

“i don’t feel like i’m babysitting you at all,” her voice is full of sincerity. “i missed you, and i want to spend time with you.”

“i’m no fun to be around right now.”

“i’m sure i wasn’t much fun to be around in florida,” lynn replies. 

“that’s different. i didn’t mind—”

“it’s the exact same thing. i don’t mind at all right now,” her finger points to the back seat. “we have dinner, and i got us our favorite wines. if this is because i asked if you wanted me to take you to oliver’s, i just thought that you’d want to be around him instead.”

“i don’t,” his voice is quiet, almost like if he said the words any louder he’d be betraying the boy. “you’re the only person i want to be around right now.”

“okay,” lynn says. “i want to be around you, too. y’dont have to push me away.”

“okay,” harry squeezes her hands once before letting go. he turns to put his seatbelt back on, and then, “is it citruskissed?”

lynn grins, “of fucking course it’s citruskissed. think better of me.”

the drive back to her bakery wasn’t as long as she remembers it to be, but maybe that was only because she spent the entirety of it trying to walk harry through using the ebay app. 

at a rather long red light, she convinced him to list some of his paintings for an outrageous price. it was a trend she had seen online. artists would list their work, and sometimes people would bid nearly five digits for them. lynn had mentioned that financial freedom from his parents might help (at least it did for her), and he was downloading the app seconds later.

the two eat their chinese food right out of the containers with plastic cups full to the brim with their wine at one of the tiny tables in the bakery’s dining area. the overhead lights are kept off, and they use the warm glow from stray lamps lynn had thrifted over the years instead.

she’s spent many long nights just like this one in her bakery. the lights were always dimmed as she ate the chinese delivery in her office. music usually quietly played from the speakers, and there was a sense of calmness that floated around the small building. lynn always loved the time she spent working late alone, but right now, she thinks she loves sharing it with harry even more.

he’s comfortable around her again, and not a second goes by that’s not taken up by one of their voices as they talk around bites of lo mein and fried rice. he tells her about his teenage years, and just how into theater he was. lynn can’t help the giggle that slips out when she pictures harry in costume on stage. 

she tries to talk him into joining the community theater, and of course, he makes a joke of it. she doesn’t want to press, but lynn thinks if he ever did decide to join, she’d be front and center at every one of his plays with a bouquet of sunflowers tucked gently underneath her seat.

“did you ever try to rekindle things with silas?” 

“what?” lynn’s fork holding a bite of lo mein stops mid air.

“sorry, it’s none of my business.”

there’s a bubble of laughter rising in her chest, and she does her best to keep it down, “you do know silas is gay, right?”

harry chokes on his sip of wine, “what?”

his eyes are wide and lynn can’t stop the laughter from spilling out. it’s such a genuine laugh that she can feel deep in her stomach. tears pool at the corner of her eyes, and when she looks over, harry is laughing softly, too.

“i can’t believe you thought that…” her fingertips press into the ache in her side that seemed to grow with each laugh. “i can’t even finish. that’s absurd, harry.”

“you two just seemed so-”

“don’t,” she holds her hand up, one last giggle leaving her lips. “you’ve said enough.”

lynn finishes pouring the forgotten chocolate batter into cupcake tins while harry cleans up their dinner mess. it’s late by now. the sun’s set, and she expects him to say he has to go after he’s finished tossing everything in the trash. he doesn’t though. instead, he brings out her office chair and watches again.

neither one of them speaks, and lynn can’t help but wonder what harry’s thinking about. every time she looks over, his face softens and a smile forms on his lips when their eyes meet. the sight of him makes her want to lay on her bed, kicking her feet like a schoolgirl as she draws little e.a. + h.s.’s inside of hearts in her notebook.

lynn’s icing the cupcakes when she lets him plug his phone into the bakery’s sound system. harry chooses hozier again, but this time lynn knows the words of work song as soon as it starts playing through the speakers.

i'm so full of love i could barely eat.

she remembers when the song was first released. she’d lay in her bed in her parents’ house listening to it with her headphones on max volume, wishing that this was the song she could relate to instead of cherry wine.

“god, harry,” lynn can’t help herself once he returns back to the kitchen. “you must be so in love with him. i’ve never heard someone listen to this much mushy music.”

harry smiles, but it’s sad. (probably from earlier.) “yeah, something like that.”

it’s nearing midnight when she puts the last of the cupcakes in the display case. harry’s moved to the table they were sitting at earlier, his face buried in his arms. lynn thinks he might only be resting, but the soft snores that sometimes bounce off of the walls of the bakery tell her otherwise.

she does her best to close everything up quietly, not wanting to wake him, and then goes to finish up the dishes. lynn’s not really sure why he decided to nap at the table instead of going home to sleep in his comfortable bed, but she isn’t complaining. she would never give up a second of time spent with harry. even if it was spent watching him nap.

thinking about the fact that there will be a day when he would rather be around oliver when he’s sad makes her stomach twist. lynn knows it would probably be best to distance herself. nothing good would come out of letting herself fall in love with him. he even said it himself when they first started this whole fake relationship. he’d do it as long as she didn’t fall in love with him, and something tells her that he’s not very keen on changing his mind.

lynn puts their half empty bottles of wine into a bag, and boxes up the chocolate cupcake she had made especially for harry to take back to his. it was a mini version of the cake she had given to gemma, only a little better. it had raspberry filling and thick cream cheese frosting, and she hoped he’d like it.

her fingers brush against his arm and move to scratch at his back, quiet murmurs of his name leaving her lips. harry offers her a sleepy smile when he lifts his head, and before thinking, lynn offers him a spot in her bed in return. she’s embarrassed for even offering, but harry accepts before she finishes her sentence.

harry takes the bags and boxes from her as she turns off the last remaining lamp and joins him outside. her keys echo in the darkness as she tries to lock the door, and after a few minutes, harry offers his phone flashlight, illuminating the lock.

they share the cupcake as soon as they get into the car. harry uses the nearby streetlight to carefully shove spoonfuls of the raspberry filling and chocolate cake into lynn’s mouth. he keeps the frosting all for himself, quiet hums of appreciation falling from his mouth with every bite. 

“still having trouble sleeping?” his words are slurred in the passenger seat of her car not even five minutes into the drive.

“not as much,” she admits. “i, um, went to a psychiatrist and got some sleeping meds.”

“yeah?” he hums. “and they work?”

“usually. not always.”

“i’m sorry,” he leans his head back against the headrest, eyes closing again. harry’s hand reaches for her's and he presses his sugary lips against the back of it like it was a normal thing for him to be doing. “y’always deserve the best sleep. i wish we could trade places… my hardworking girl.”

my girl? lynn’s thanking god that his eyes are closed because the blush from his words practically takes over her whole body. every inch of her skin is on fire, and when she catches herself in the rear view mirror, her reflection matches that of a red light. 

when lynn finally gains enough courage to look over at him, he’s fast asleep again.

✰✰✰

a/n: yay she's here!!! only two more parts waaa hopefully i'll have the next one out soon

[wineauntharry]

Can you do a one shot inspired by The Bomb by Florence and the Machine?

Hi anon! I hope you like this. You didn’t say about who so i just used harry since that was the only person i had written for when you requested this

 It's very angsty but that is my specialty. Sad girls rise up! Sorry if this strays from the song a little. My mind was all over the place because the song confused me a little.

Based off of : The Bomb by Florence and The Machine ANDDD Lead Me On by Nate Poshkus!!!

The Bomb// h.s.

Everyone was right. I knew being with Harry would be no easy feat, but I didn’t expect it to hurt me this bad. I was never gonna be her. I was never gonna be his love, his forever, none of that. 

Unavailability was his entire brand. A touring popstar who could have whoever he wanted, I should’ve known that it wasn’t me. I’ve blown apart my life for him.

I had woken up to a flood of text messages from my best friend Anna. One stuck out to me the most.

“don’t open twitter.” she wrote.

It was ominous, but I trusted her. I’ve never been a good listener, so naturally I opened it and went right to my trending bar.

“Popstar Harry Styles spotted with Ex Lover Olivia Wilde! Sparking Dating rumors!”

I froze. I was surprised, but at the same time I wasn’t. I was never special, I wasn’t too blind for that. But God, he could at least fake it for a little longer. 

This could’ve been the best thing that’s ever happened to us, until he decided not to do it. I was free to love him but he didn’t want me. I sat my phone down and thought about all the time Harry had spent making me feel like I meant something to him. All of the surprise candle lit dinners, last minute vacations, little love letters left in the bathroom before he went to the studio.

I mean, we were never ‘dating’, but he damn near acted like we were. Strangers to friends, friends to lovers, lovers to strangers but who’s fucking surprised. 

I wanted to call him so bad.I knew if he saw me like this he would come back, tell me he didn’t want her, and I would fall for it.

I forced myself out of bed, and walked to the bathroom. As I was brushing my teeth I heard my phone buzz. I ignored it but then it happened again, and again, and again.

“harry- 3 missed calls”

“harry: i swear i wouldn’t do this to you, you know that.”

I didn’t have a reason to respond. I knew I would get nothing out of it and he would just find another excuse to make his way over to my apartment, and into my bed, and head, and heart.

It wasn’t cheating, we didn’t belong to eachother. But God, I didn’t deserve to be lied to and used like that. I would have never done this to him and he knows that

A couple minutes went by of me staring at my phone, his texts. I wanted this to all be wrong so badly. Just a daydream, a big joke.

“lose my number.” is all I said in response.

I decided to not waste my day, so I hopped in the shower. Once I got out, I checked my phone again. Of course he had more to say.

“harry: please let me talk to you, it was all real y/n, all of my feelings for you”

“i don’t believe anything you say anymore. you were never mine and i shoudl’ve ran the moment i realized that.” i wrote.

He wass trying to reel me back in. What we had was so beautiful but I should have known it was fake. I was never enough, he was never over her.

I sat my phone down on my night stand as I crawled back into bed. I was so stupid, so fucking stupid. Maybe I should give him a chance to explain himself. Maybe it was for publicity for his new album. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt.

I woke up a few hours later after crying myself to sleep over the situation. I feel peace approaching, or maybe it was Harry, because about two seconds after that unfamiliar feeling, I got another text from the boy I missed so much.

“harry: can’t stop thinkin ab ya, just need one chance to explain it all, that’s it my love,”

I responded with “you know where to find me.” It was up to him whether he wanted to right his wrongs.

“harry: coming.”

I was gonna let him speak his peace but I kmew for sure there was know way we were going to recover from this. But I needed to be fair because again, all of my information was from twitter. 

I’m playing devil's advocate for a boy who wouldn’t do the same, a boy who got off to leading me on.

I was pulled out of my conflicting thoughts by a final buzz from my phone.

“harry: here”

—-----

Sorry this was extra short omg, I like it though. My bf actually helped me write it a lil :) we love a supportive bf.

Anywayssss

Hope you like it, you guys mean the world to me i can’t say thank you enough for the love on mu joe and other harry oneshots.

Would yall want me to make a post just introducing something about me? If not yall can say no lol.

Part 2?????

Send requests here!

-all the love, kitt.

[exuberantocean]

Okay, I guess I have more to say about the whole Jason Sudeikis, Olivia Wilde, Harry Styles Nanny story.

I’m going to explain why you can’t believe any of this.  I’m putting it under a cut for all of you that are sick and tired of reading about it or already know this whole story is garbage.

1. When has the Daily Mail become a reliable source to all you people?  Because it’s not.  It’s always been trash and it continues to be trash.  

2. It is absurdly easy to fake text messages.  There are websites dedicated to it.  There’s photoshop and other editing software.  Hell, I can just change my friend’s name to “Jason” or “Olivia” in my contacts then text them.

2. The Nanny’s texts conflict with her story at several points, so even if you think they’re “true” you can’t say it really supports her story.  

For instance, she says that Jason fired her in a drunken rage and yet the texts to support this look like this:

So even if we assume the texts are real (which as stated in point 2, is a dubious to begin with) Jason doesn’t look out of control here.  He states he doesn’t feel safe with her in the same house as his kids.  He has a third party present and he asks her to record the conversation.  It looks like something more complicated and probably much more messy.   Like she says he’s been drinking and is angry but he comes off in his texts as very concerned and afraid of her.  

This is followed by the Nanny’s texts to Oliva:

Where we see Olivia finally replying that she was advised not to engage by someone else.  So it’s to the point that both Jason and Olivia seem united in this and getting outside advice of some sort on how to handle whatever situation is with the Nanny.  

I mean, this doesn’t at all collaborate with a “Jason tossed out the Nanny in a drunk rage story.  The text messages instead make it seem like there was something concerning happening with the Nanny’s behavior.

So like, maybe employ some critical thinking to all of this.

[freedomfireflies]

Ifall Harry is one of the best gifts you’ve given us I THANK YOU LOTS FOR IT🫡

LISTEN, I FEEL SO BAD BECAUSE I CANT SEEM TO STICK TO A TEXTING STYLE, every time I try to type it, it just looks confusing and…wrong??? Like the bold versus italics are hard to read?? But then when I try to put the name of who’s saying it beside the text it looks fake?? IDK IT MAKES ME FEEL BAD CAUSE IM SURE ITS HARD TO READ SO I APOLOGIZE!!

THAT SAID: I appreciate you so, so, SO crazy much for reading and taking the time to say this!!! 🥹 And obviously HUGE, MASSIVE credit to the original requester 😭💞💞

(Honestly about to just make fake screenshots of the messages and attach those) (my phone company will be hella confused why I’m texting myself bad puns)

[only-kiwi]

lose you to love me - part 8

inspired by little do you know by alex & sierra.

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6

part 7

tobi felt like she was always in the studio these days. or writing. or thinking about it. probably because she had a lot on her mind... harry was really fucking with her. unintentionally, of course. but still. she didn’t know what to do. she loved him so much, but she just didn’t want to go through the same thing again. she needed to be sure it was a forever thing.

getting out of the car, tobi spotted harry walking in. she called his name and jogged up to him, giving him a hug. “hey, how was your interview?” she asked as they stood outside, which wasn’t the best idea because she was sure she heard cameras clicking.

“pretty good, yeah. i covered Big Yellow Taxi.”

“no way.” tobi gasped. “that’s my favourite song.”

“i know.” harry smiled, but it slowly faded when he noticed an iPhone camera across the street pointing towards them. “let’s go inside.”

***

“okay so,” tobi started as they sat down, “i have literally like three sentences.”

“show me them.”

tobi opened up her notebook, there were words and sentences and phrases. most of which were scribbled out. harry knew she only did this when there was too much on her mind, she usually liked her notebook to be really neat and tidy. but this... this is was chaotic and he was honestly quite worried. harry looked at what was written down, he took in her words.

‘haunted by the memories’ ‘trying to pick myself up’ ‘you might change your mind’ ‘i forgive you but i can’t forget’

“what do you think? can we figure something out?” tobi seemed really adamant to get this song out.

“yeah, we can definitely work with this.” harry told her. “i just... are you sure you’re okay?”

“i’ve just been thinking a lot and i have all these feelings that i need to get out. i feel like i’ll actually be able to breathe after. because little do you know-“

“-that’s it!”

“what?”

“little do you know.”

“i don’t think i follow....”

“come here,” harry led her inside the booth to the keyboard. he started playing. “how did you feel when we broke up.”

“uhm, i couldn’t sleep for months. i felt broken, i guess. especially after you got with camille. i was struggling and you were just... fine.”

“ok listen....” he then started singing, “little do you know, how i’m breaking while you fall asleep.”

“yeah, i like that.” tobi wrote it down in case they forgot. “keep playing.”

“little do you know, i’m still haunted by the memories. little do you know, i’m tryna pick myself up piece by piece. little do you know, i need a little more time.” tobi sang and harry looked up at her as she stood in front of the keyboard. “harry, you might be a genius.”

“they’re your words, t.” he smiled.

“yeah, but... you always managed to make sense of everything.” harry smiled even wider at had words. there was something about the atmosphere that just felt so good, maybe it was because they weren’t hiding anything. and it felt like a movie with the way harry was playing the piano. “ok how about, ‘underneath it all i’m held captive by the hole inside. i’ve been holding back for the fear that you might change your mind. i’m ready to forgive you, but forgetting is a harder fight. little do you know, i need a little more time’.”

“you just made that up?”

“i guess. but it’s all i’ve got so i’m gonna need you to figure something out.” the pair wrote, then they threw it away. then they wrote again. harry liked the idea of the song sounding like a conversation, similar to ‘what a time’, so that’s what they went with.

tobi watched harry as he played the piano and sang, she let him do his thing and he looked beautiful while doing it. everyone usually sees him going off on a massive stage in front of thousands of people, and while that’s amazing, tobi always loved watching him like this. tears filled her eyes, the way he looked, the way he sounded... she really loved him.

“little do you know, i know you’re hurting while i’m sound asleep. little do you know, all my mistakes are slowly drowning me. little do you know, i’m tryna make it better piece by piece. little do you know, i, i love you til the sun dies.”

tobi couldn’t help herself from letting out the smallest sob. “why are you crying?” harry asked with a small chuckle.

“i don’t know,” she shook her head. “i just wish everything happened differently.”

harry reached up and wiped away his ex girlfriend’s tears and pulled her into his side to comfort her. “me too, baby.”

tobi cried harder, “you haven’t called me that in over a year.”

“i know.”

“you used to call each other that, you and camille. you said it in your songs.”

“it wasn’t the same.” he said softly, looking at her.

“but it was, though. she was your rebound but you fell in love with her. you’d still be with her if she hadn’t gone back to her ex, you know that.” tobi finally looked at him. “i hate to think about it but i can’t help it.”

“she wasn’t you, no one will ever be you.”

“you wrote a whole album about her.”

“not all of it.”

“what?”

“some of the songs are still about you,” harry told her. “falling, sunflower, fine line. there all about you.”

“you said it wasn’t about me.”

“yeah, i know. i guess i just didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” he shrugged. “oh, and to be so lonely is about you too.”

“i kind of figured but i wasn’t too sure about that one. didn’t think you’d write more songs about me after the first album.” tobi looked down at the piano, playing with some of the keys.

“you called me an arrogant son on a bitch when we had that fight.”

“i did,” she giggled, “sorry about that.”

“you were right.”

tobi shrugged, “come on, we have a song to finish.”

*

Liked by harrystyles, arianagrande and 1,893,076 others

tobiskye need a little more time.

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tobifan1 time for WHAT???

tobifan2 lyrics again pls say yes

arianagrande love u so much

tobiskye @/arianagrande love u more i’m coming to see u asap

harryfan1 are her and harry back together???

annetwist You look amazing, T 🤍

tobiskye @/annetwist i miss you!!

Liked by tobiskye, jefezoff and 2,921,673 others

harrystyles I’ll wait.

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harryfan2 WHAT THE FUCKSSJWK

harryfan3 y’all are so obvious

tobiskye ....so that’s where my scrunchie went

harrystyles @/tobiskye yes and I’m keeping it

tobifan3 stfu i love them

harryfan4 you can’t tell me they’re not together again like you just can’t

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tobiskye 🍏

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tobifan4 <3

tobifan5 listening to the apple lyrics and realising it’s about harry omg

harrystyles Favourite song x

tobiskye @/harrystyles love u

harryfan5 get back together!!!

harryfan6 ily both sm

arianagrande bitch the song u sent me is fire

tobiskye @/arianagrande harry did most of it i just sat there and cried

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harrystyles T.S

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harryfan7 she’s so hot how did you go from this to camille

tobiskye i said 👽

harrystyles @/tobiskye you really did

harryfan8 would kill to look like this

tobifan6 CRYING SHE LOOKS SO GOOD

gemmastyles 💘

[faketextsbysophia]

get hundreds of children 👶🏻

[harrieatthemet]

Mustache

He has never been keen on sharing. 

And Gemma’s mere existence, as well as the small indent on her left thumb she swears is a scar (though Harry vehemently denies it is), is living proof. 

Mr Ducky was his favorite bath time companion for a good bulk of his childhood. There were even times he’d carry it around with him in the house tied to a string like a pet, one of Anne’s fondest memories and favorite stories to tell whenever she found the opportunity. 

Maybe it was Gemma’s own fault; she was only six at the time and was foolishly under the impression that the stupid rubber toy was at anyone’s disposal, which is what led her to try and situate the duck in her backpack as she geared up for school. 

It’s also what led her to tears because Harry caught her on the way out the front door, Mr Ducky in tow, and he instinctively sunk his teeth right into the side of her hand in protest. And, okay fine, he may have bit down a little harder than he should have, but the overall message he was sending came across very clear. Gemma never touched anything he owned again for a very, very, long time; and eventually went on to tell everyone in her class she had a vampire as a brother. 

“What do we think of this little number,” your hip jut, innocent as it was, just now became a permanent memory in Harry’s brain, “too much, like.. revealing?”

You like nice in red; devilish, even, and in the best way possible. There’s nothing revealing about the dress at all. Somehow, though, he finds himself perched squeamishly at the foot of your bed in complete fucking anguish. In theory, no, the dress is not too much. It’s the perfect ensemble and flatters you so well he feels like whoever made the dress conjured it up with you specifically in mind. 

And no, it’s not too much, for literally anyone else except him. How is such a modest dress enough for him to think you up the way he is right now; bent over in front of him with your hair wrapped tightly up in his palm while that dress lays in a sloppy ball by his feet. 

“Would be nice with nude shoes,” he mules, “like, those sandals y’ave, yeah?” 

The way your eyes light up, that same way they always do when your mind starts to move at light’s speed as you start assembling a million different ideas into one, is enough to tug a grin onto his mouth. 

He didn’t really want to agree to this. When you texted first to ask he ignored it, that way you’d have just carried on without him and he could blame a busy schedule or an overrun nap on his delayed response time. It’s much easier to blame a missed text for no response. Of course it’s not in your nature to send a text, and he knew that already. So it came a son surprise when he was bombarded by 4 phone calls. By the fifth one he had picked up, succumbing to you and just the flat out unfulfilled urge he had to hear your voice at the other end of the phone.

“Seriously Harry,” your voice is like fucking honey, sweet and sullen like it always is, and he’s in euphoria listening to it as you poke your earring through the lobe of your left ear, “it’s just, y’know I don’t- I’m nervous and I appreciate you helping me do something as stupid as picking a dress.” 

“S’not stupid,” he reassures, “y’know I just like spending time with yeh, since y’so busy ’n stuff.”

Which is true. That’s the only thing that got him over here; and he rescheduled a zoom call just to sit in your bedroom for all of twenty minutes. Not one part of him regretted it, either.

“I’m busy?” You tease, “coming from the A lister who’s in London, than LA, than New York, London again, oh, than LA again oh, then ‘sorry love, m’in Tokyo.’”

Also true, he knows that, which is why he’s snickering at fault in response to your harmless teasing. He wouldn’t say it now, mainly because he doesn’t want to make it weird, but regardless of where he falls on the map he somehow still finds a way to fit you in. He’s never minded doing it, either. 

Twenty minutes isn’t enough. Maybe another twenty more could be a sufficient amount. That’s almost an hour, right? Forty minutes is almost a full hour with you and he’d love to get even that much. Or twenty more hours, even, would be that much better. It’s better for him to think of getting more time with you than to let his thoughts wander and remind him of where you’re getting ready to go off to. 

A date. It’s why he was so hesitant to come here. It’s hard enough as it is being a prisoner to his own thoughts, being around you and not getting to interact with you the way he actually wants; kiss you the way he wants, touch you the way he wants, hold you and talk to you the way he wants. Adding a new element to the mix, another man getting access to you the way he wants, well that’s just mental warfare. 

You don’t know anything about though. And thank God, because if you could get a peak into his thoughts and see just a preview of what he thinks he almost knows for sure you’d ice him out in a heartbeat. He’s got a soft spot for you, nonetheless, which is why he swallowed the massive-sized lump in his throat when you told him you needed help on an outfit for a date and b lined it over to your place.

“Who’s this guy, anyways.” He chimes, following you similar to that of a lost puppy as you start heading towards the staircase, “Like, wha’s he look like ’n stuff.”

Immediately after he asks he wishes he hadn’t. The way that pesky fucking lump reappears when you wiggle your eyebrows in response, stuffing your hand into your leather purse in an attempt to fish out your phone. A simple response like ‘handsome’ or ‘he’s a nice guy’ would’ve sufficed for him. Seriously, that’s all he needed. What he didn’t need was an entire fucking slideshow of an above average looking guy. And he had a cool mustache, to boot, which really pissed Harry off for some reason. 

“Should probably shave,” he squints his eyes at the photo you’ve got propped right in front of his face, trying his hardest to act like he isn’t so fucking jealous of that mustache, “kinda looks like a squirrel on his top lip."

“If I didn’t know you so well,” you tut teasingly, “I’d think you’re a dick.”

“You know me so well and still don’t think that?” 

He likes the way your laugh sounds, and it makes him happy that he said something amusing enough to drag it out of you. And the toothy smile you pair with it practically knocks the wind right out of him. Everything you do seems to wow him, corny as it sounds. It makes him feel so at ease, and the butterflies he gets each time gets him reminiscing to the days where he was just a kid and had the worlds biggest crush on the girl who sat three rows ahead of him in grade school. He’s giddy and he doesn’t want you to leave for this date. 

For a second he thinks about doing something elaborate; breaking his foot or faking an illness so that you literally have no choice but to hang back and look after him. That’s selfish though, and honestly just crazy and super fucked up, so he opts out of that. But he doesn’t want you to go so bad he seriously considers it, especially as you start sorting through the downstairs closet to find a coat that doesn’t clash with your shoes. 

He could just be honest. He could just tell you that he doesn’t want you to go, solely because he’s absolutely infatuated with you and for every hour he’s awake and functioning you manage to consume every thought he has. He could just be an adult and tell you he’s got feelings for you that very much surpass a platonic, friendly demeanor. That might be a better way into persuading you to stay back with him than breaking his fucking foot. 

“Ok now wait a minute,” he chokes, and there’s a painful twang that strikes his gut when you frown, “gotta tell y’somethin’.” 

“What,” you groan, and he swears he would rather die right now than do anything else, “it’s the shoes, right? They make my calves look like I’m a running back don’t they?” 

He wants to laugh but he thinks if he opens his mouth he would projectile vomit everywhere. But the thought occurs to him that if he does that than it would be an excellent excuse for you to skip the date. Though, of course, he runs the risk of grossing you out and absolutely humiliating himself all in one go of it. 

So he shakes his head no. In fact he loves the shoes, and they make your ankles look slender and really compliment your legs quite nicely. Still, he’s scrambling to string together a coherent sentence because his brain is working a lot faster than the muscles in his mouth are and it feels like someone just super glued his lips shut.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” you tease, and the cheeky wink you shoot him over your shoulder just edges him even more if that’s possible at this point, “Styles.”

“I don’t want y’to go on this date, (Y/N).” 

He’s well aware that he blurted that out in a way that he really, really, wish he hadn’t. Now the air in the room is stale and heavy, dense too, like someone just sucked all the air out and left the two of you here with nothing to inhale but words and unspecified tension. 

And he’s starting to get more anxious as your playful manner dissipates. He can tell your puzzled not just be the demeanor of your face, but by the stance of your body because your letting shoulders hang the way you do when you’re a little uncomfortable. 

“Oh,” you breath, and his chest starts sinking inward, “okay, I just- well why not? Do I not.. like, do I look bad or something?”

“No,” he coos, and he feels like the worlds biggest asshole when you start to frown, “No y’don’t- Christ, (Y/N) y’look amazing. Y’always look so fuckin’ amazing. It’s just-”

“What,” you huff, “than what is it, than? Why wouldn’t you want me to go?”

He’s really done it now. The proper thing to do would’ve just been to let you go, walk out with you and watch you drive off before he headed home himself. The proper thing to do would’ve been for him to just go home and think about you on a date with someone other than himself, curled up in a ball watching a Friends episode he’s already seen four times while he felt sorry for himself. But that’s not what happened, and what he should’ve done was just broke the fucking foot like he initially thought to do. That would’ve been less agonizing than this. 

“Because,” he’s frustrated now, not with you but really just himself, “I should be taking y’out. M’absolutely in love with yeh, (Y/N), and I don’t have a cool mustache but I could take y’out on a date, ’n I want to so bad.” 

There’s still that dense energy looming in the room, and his gut now too as he feels it winding up tightly in an anxious bundle of knots and twists. You’re not saying anything and the only thing he notices is that you’re breathing is vaguely staggered and your clutching onto that purse in your hand like he’s about to snatch it and run off. God, he should’ve just broken the foot!

“Please don’t go out wit him,” and now, his voice is small, “think it might kill me.”

[jakesguitarstring]

nice to meet you || j.t.k

Masterlist

taglist: @ageofflowerpower (message me if you’d like to be added  💕) 

summary: a party where you barely know anyone has never been your idea of a good time... but jake might just change your mind. 

words: 1.5k

warnings: mostly just suggestive, but still {18+ minors DNI!}

This was a stupid idea, a really really stupid idea. You held a plastic cup in your hand, but had barely taken more than two sips from it. It wasn’t that you hated parties, but you only knew one person here and they had abandoned you within minutes. so you awkwardly stood on the sidelines, trying to think up an excuse for leaving. You looked around the room, trying to find your friend, but it was to no avail. As you sighed and pulled out your phone to text them, someone ran into your side. The almost full cup in your hand was now empty and the contents had soaked the floor and the mystery person next to you. “Fucking party foul!” A curly haired guy yelled from across the room as the man next to you flicked his hands to get some of the liquid off them. He looked up at you with a smile that stopped your heart and forced any words of anger and annoyance to be entirely forgotten. 

“Shit. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention at all.” He laughed. He looked you up and down and his gaze set your skin aflame. “I didn’t get any on you did I?” You shook your head, suddenly unable to find your voice. He gave you another smile and your heart fluttered. “I'm Jake by the way.” You attempted to smile back and told him your name. He asked if he could grab you another drink and you walked with him to the kitchen. As he handed you a new cup he apologized again. You told him that it wasn’t a big deal. He leaned against the counter and looked as though he was about to say something else when someone shouted his name from the other room. He turned toward you, “hey, I’ll see you around, yeah?” And then he was gone. You decided that he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen in your life and you also decided that you’d stick around for just a little bit longer, if it meant you might have another glimpse of Jake.

An hour later and you hadn’t seen Jake again, but your friend had dragged you into the living room to play truth or dare. You had rolled your eyes, truth or dare was so high school and you were all way past it. As they pulled you into the room, your eyes immediately found Jake's. “You playin’?” He asked and you gave him a smile.

Furniture was moved out of the way as a large group of grown adults sat on the floor to play truth or dare. The room was loud and lively. You hated to admit it, but it was actually a lot of fun. The curly haired guy from earlier, who you now knew as Josh, had been dared to fake an orgasm, When Harry Met Sally style. Everyone was laughing and screaming along with him and quite a few people shouted the classic, “I’ll have what she’s having,” once he was finally done. 

There were lap dance and stripping dares, tell us your secret fantasy or the craziest place you had sex truths, and a few dares involving ice cubes. It was all a little bit different than the lazy sleepover truth and dares from long ago. The whole time you couldn’t help but feel Jake's eyes on you. You didn’t dare try and catch his eye, it felt reckless and dangerous, like you didn’t trust what either one of you would do if you let yourself feel that magnetic pull. 

A girl on the other side of the circle yelled Jake's name and his eyes finally left you as he gave her his attention and said, “Dare.” 

She pretended to think for a minute and then bit her lip as she said, “I dare you to play spin the bottle…” people groaned with how tame it was. “... and then spend seven minutes in heaven with them.” That got people’s attention. Your face flushed thinking about how different these people’s idea of seven minutes in heaven was than yours. The girl downed the last of her beer and handed the empty bottle to Jake, it was so obvious that she wanted the bottle to land on her. A twinge of jealousy pricked you. You knew you had no right to be jealous, you’d only just met Jake an hour ago, but you couldn’t help it. It felt like slow motion, watching the beer bottle spin and spin and spin. You looked away from the bottle and into Jake's eyes. He was watching you again, his fingers rubbing his lips and chin like he was deep in thought. Then all of a sudden the room erupted and you felt someone grab onto your arm. You snapped your eyes away from Jake's and found the beer bottle unmistakably pointed directly at you. He smiled and stood up. It seemed like every eye in the room was focused on you as he walked over to you. You were completely frozen but then he offered you his hand and you felt yourself reach for it and pulled to your feet. His hand was warm and soft as he led you away from the living room and toward the kitchen. The large group scrambled to follow, laughing and shouting, but you didn’t hear a single thing. He opened up a pantry in the kitchen and gestured for you to step inside and then turned back to the group. “If we could have a little privacy please!” He yelled and slammed the door.

It was dark in the pantry, but it was big enough that you could put some space between you and Jake. He flipped on the light and you watched as he smirked and ran a hand through his hair. Nervous butterflies fluttered around your stomach, having no idea how this was going to go. “Sorry about all that.” He nodded his head back toward the door. You shook your head and shrugged, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I know we’re all a bit much for newcomers.” He laughed and you smiled, that was an understatement. “We, uh, we don’t have to do anything.” Your stomach dropped, he didn’t want to kiss you. You looked away from him to focus on a bag of chips in the pantry. Suddenly he was next to you, one of his hands grazing down your arm. “Unless you want to.” 

When you turned toward him, he was watching you. An image of a gazelle being chased by a lion in the Serengeti flashed through your mind. He was the hunter and you were the fox and he wanted you. And maybe you wanted to be caught. You bit your bottom lip and stepped into his space. His eyes trailed down to your lips and he murmured, “are you sure?” And you answered by pulling him toward you by the front of his shirt. He grasped onto your waist and pulled you into him. His lips were purposeful and passionate, but also so soft as they moved in tandem with yours. A soft bite on your bottom lip caused you to moan into him and he pulled away to look at you. You blushed, feeling a little embarrassed with how eager you were, but the feeling was fleeting as you saw the hunger in his eyes. 

“You like that?” He asked. All you were able to do was nod and he turned you around swiftly and backed you up against the pantry door. His body was pushed into yours, all of you seemed to be surrounded by him as you tangled your hands in his hair and he bit at your jaw and neck. When his lips found a particularly sensitive spot your hips bucked against him. You felt him smile against your neck and he used his knee to push your legs apart and pressed his thigh against your center. You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped you as you moved your hips against him again. His grip on you tightened and he attacked your lips again. Your hand slid down his chest, nails scratching, and you reached under his shirt to feel his skin. He was so warm and soft and real. Real, all of this was real. And it was like you were both starved for years and years and the only thing that could abate that hunger was one another. You never wanted this to end, you wanted to live in this moment in your memory forever. So you tried to focus on every single part of how it felt to have his lips on you, his hands clutching your hips, his body so tightly pressed into every part of you, and the feel of his heart beneath your palm beating rapidly and out of pace. 

A countdown began outside the door and he pulled away from you. He looked down at you, his eyes full of lust. Heat was coursing through your bloodstream. He lifted your chin with his calloused fingers and all you wanted was to feel those hands on every single inch of your skin. “To be continued,” he said and pressed his lips against yours one final time as the countdown ended. He stepped away from you just before the door swung open and gave you one last lingering look as he walked out of the pantry. 

[csilarry]

reverserry

this is a compilation of harry ~putting it in reverse~

Harry lives a double life. His public persona is a straight male sex symbol, defined by stunt relationships, brands, and ingenuity. His true self contrasts in his gender identity, sexuality, desire for intimate connection with fans, and his Home with Louis. No matter how fake his media persona is, Harry Styles™ is still a reality he has to live in.

I believe Harry uses upside down or backwards imagery to show that things are not as they seem (Harry Styles™ vs H), and to signify the dual realities he lives in.

Through this post, I have strung together the theories of many to reference to the dual realities of Harry’s expression, the A-side and the B-side:

The A-side and B-side are the two sides of phonograph records and cassettes; these terms have often been printed on the labels of two-sided music recordings. The A-side usually features a recording that its artist, producer, or record company intends to be the initial focus of promotional efforts and radio airplay and hopefully become a hit record. The B-side (or "flip-side") is a secondary recording that typically receives less attention, although some B-sides have been as successful as, or more so than, their A-sides. [x]

Through this definition, Harry’s A side is his media persona because it is the most popularly seen side of his life. It is easy and obvious to see. Those of us willing to reverse the tape see a whole new message. When Harry references the reverse (or B side), it’s a

metaphor for what we’re given in the media and what you see at surface level. But the reverse…what you don’t see…the truth [read more] from @headscarvesandtattoos

Dorothrry

"Home is a place we all must find, child. It's not just a place where you eat or sleep. Home is knowing. Knowing your mind, knowing your heart, knowing your courage. If we know ourselves, we're always home, anywhere." -Glinda, The Good Witch

As we know, home is a central concept to both Harry and Louis. [read more] from @bluewinnerangel

In Wizard of Oz, “home” is a place that existed inside of Dorothy; she had the power to go home inside of her the whole time. For Harry and Louis, “home” means something similar: a private, internal reality that they are each other’s home. A reality they can access mentally/emotionally whenever they want.

You Are Home newspaper ads

The wallpaper runs in both directions; it looks the same whether the text or the image is right side up. The archway and text are about (a private, internal alternate reality of) home, but the images refer to Harry’s House. Therefore, these ads express both the true and false realities.

Doors generally symbolize the threshold between here and somewhere else. Through the You Are Home campaign, Harry is letting us in to his internal reality through hints and clues behind the door. He is inviting us in, but it is up to us to walk through it.

Dimensions of Consciousness

According to @so-idialed-9 in this post, the use of arches, spirals, 369, and portal-like imagery by Harry and Louis are referencing a journey to a higher level of consciousness, which I interpret as an internal/mental alternate reality:

“In Louis' images, the sky or glass is shattering. Again symbolizing a new opening.”

“369 is a method to manifest your dreams because of what the individual numbers represent in numerology.”

“Arches symbolize a threshold, a decision to enter a new kind of time and space. Arches are very strong and thus offer protection, and they're portals that encourage you to move forward.”

Spirals are used “to represent a journey that leads to a higher level of knowledge about self and the world.”

Louis’ 369 merch imagery might also be referring to the alternate dimension in which he interacts with fans about his and Harry’s B-side:

“the boy on the ladder is in front of the shattered glass and he is spray painting Louis’ dead-eyed smiley face over the circular opening in the glass…The boy appears to have traveled through hole in the “Fourth Wall” of the Walls MV…we might interpret the space beyond the Fourth Wall as an alternate dimension…where artist and viewer interact.” [read more] from @genuinemusic

Psychedelics

We might also see the similarities in imagery & concepts between You Are Home, Shroom Bloom, and Alice in Wonderland as another version of a mental alternate reality, this time induced by psychedelics. [read more] from @skepticalarrie

“Sweet creature / We're running through the garden / Oh, where nothing bothered us."

Reminiscent of Dorothy and Alice entering dreamlike almost psychedelic alternate worlds that are bright and full of color and look to be whimsical, magical almost, gardens/alternate or parallel worlds full of flowers and colors and things that can't possibly be real. [read more] from @twopoppies

Harry’s egg/bubble

In the Fine Line album artwork, Harry is inside and in color (vibrant, full of life, dynamic), in direct opposition with him being outside and in black and white (static, lifeless). If we see these two images as Harry on the inside and outside of the same space/object, we might see it as two sides of the same coin, or dual opposing realities.

Mirror Writing & the Looking Glass

When Harry uses Eroda as the reverse of Adore, he is using mirror-writing. Literary figures such as Da Vinci used mirror-writing to represent a reverse in perception and to challenge the rigidity of the society and tradition.

The term mirror-writing is more closely associated with text; if we are referencing the reverse depiction of something else, such as a concept or visual, the term “looking glass” is used. The most famous example is “Through the Looking Glass” by Lewis Carrol, in which Alice goes down the rabbit hole into the flip reality of her world.

“When you look in a mirror, you see a backwards image of yourself, but it’s also representative of looking beyond the surface of the glass of the mirror. It symbolizes an alternate universe or place where things are contrary to the real world… anything that uses the looking-glass crosses over into a bizarre universe. It usually means unpredictability and strange happenings [and]…. symbolizes consciousness and its ability to reflect reality in reversed words and visuals in literature.” [read more] from @aliensyndrome

If we expand our view of Eroda from simply a mirror-writing perspective, we can see it as a looking-glass society:

“Everything about the town is odd and eerie. It discusses life and death. With it being the reverse term of Adore, then it flips the definition. Instead of adoration, it’s condemnation. Instead of invitation, it’s entrapment. Instead of tradition, it’s counterculture. Instead of normal, it’s eccentric. Everything about Eroda exists in the uncanny valley. it looks pleasant. It feels pleasant, but something is off and no one can quite put their finger on what… An advertisement for a beautiful oasis getaway that is more sinister in foundation” [read more] from @aliensyndrome

Back-masking

Similar in concept is back-masking. In this case, the reverse message is expressed through reversed audio (typ. reversed lyrics). Harry used back-masking in Sunflower Vol. 6, where he reverses the word “sunflower” and She, hinted by “around 1:32,” where he says “I want Lou, yes I want Louis.”

More controversially, he might have also back-masked some lyrics in Fine Line and Adore You, but that’s up to you to decide😉

Harry’s House vs Harry’s Home

I think this album will tell the story of Harry’s two-sided truth: the image is Louis’ public house; showing it upside down means is not really home, just the public facade.

His expression is contemplative. Perhaps he is wondering what the point is in playing pretend when all that it leaves him is an empty shell (mostly bare room, eggshell white?). Where he feels like a toy to be used at the benefit of others. He might be thinking that keeping up the house/facade costs him more than it is worth:

An ‘upside down mortgage’ or 'to go upside down on a house’ is a saying that basically means that “the owner owes more than the house is worth”.

Anything upside down, (consider Stranger Things) can signify a parallel universe, a different world. In the Harry’s House album art, home is a parallel universe (alternate reality as I call it). His worlds are split so aggressively that when he really is Home, it seems like a different life entirely.

Harry is dressed as a doll with ballet shoes, indicating a performance or playing pretend. He has turned the whole dollhouse upside down to indicate it is the false reality.

HS3 announcement video

Played forward, the message the general population understands is Harry Styles™ leaves home, lives a busy, exciting traveling life, enjoys stepping on stage, and raises a house— because haha cute it’s Harry’s House and there’s Harry and a house.

Of course, when we look closer, there is a B side. The audio is reversed, so we know the real video is to be watched in reverse: the facade of a house starts to smoke and it comes down around H (tearing down everything he’s built?). He survives the “stunt” by standing still, a Steamboat Bill Jr reference [read more] from @vlnylstyles

Instead of a smiling Harry ready to perform, we see a tired Harry, unable to keep up the Facade anymore.

He leaves the stage and his performance through 27 clips of chaos to go home to the 28th clip, (thanks @bluewinnerangel) the daffodils (symbolizing queerness, 10th anniversaries and Louis' favorite flower).

The Harry’s House announcement video also references the play A Doll’s House by Henri Ibsen. In the play, Nora realizes that she’s just been playing the roles others want her to, being used as a plaything. She eventually leaves her husband and family to be her true self. Similarly, Harry is only a person with agency when he’s off that stage. On stage, he’s a doll in a dollhouse doing stunts. He stays still and goes through the motions while he’s also out-of-body, an onlooker of his fake life. He’s living what appears to be the picture-perfect life but actually has many secrets. People don’t love him, they love the idea of him. [read more] from @infinitelymint

The Matrix

I won’t go too in depth here bc I have spoken about my thoughts on Harry and The Matrix in [this post], but if the red and blue characters in AIW represent the pills in the Matrix, we can see them as symbolic of a duality of self or dual realities, explained well by @genuinemusic in this in-depth AIW analysis:

The idea of two selves - one enlightened and one ignorant - is represented in the film by Neo’s reflection in Morpheus’ sunglasses. In this moment, he has two selves and two possible futures. Put together, we can begin to interpret Harry’s performance with his counterpart as a struggle between two selves.

Outlook

HS2 brought many references of A-side/B-side reverserry, but HS3 materials so far aren’t simply describing the B-side. It’s hard not to see the facade coming down, the upside down house, sitting outside the sphere, the blue character in As It Was disappearing, and the reference to A Doll’s House as Harry dismantling his A-side.

Three clicks of the ruby slippers brought Dorothy home, does the third album bring Harry home?

[sunfleurry]

II. Soie et Satin

Part 1

Thank you for the lovely feedback on part 1 of modern prince!Harry <33

NOTE: I decided to give my MC a name (which I also edited into part 1). I hope you enjoy Rose and Harry’s story!!!! this part is not edited oops

***

Harry was on TV and he looked like a star. Rose watched him from the comfort of her living room while she sipped her morning coffee.

It was a live broadcast showing his arrival to the event with his family including the queen, his mother. She was an intimidatingly beautiful woman who gained the respect of the entire country, if not the entire world throughout her life. She was known to be strict on tradition, but she’d done so much for the country when it came to helping the less fortunate, advocating for global health, and supporting free education for everyone.

Now that she was older and had quite a few children, she passed on some of her duties to them. They, including Harry, followed in her footsteps, looking out for the population by supporting the same causes their mother dedicated her life to as a young woman. Their role was to represent the queen, and they did so flawlessly.

Rose didn’t want to admit that she’d googled Harry the day he sent flowers to her office, but she did, and she was reminded of the fact that Harry was heir to the throne. She never cared much for learning about the royal family and this was something everyone knew, but reading it after meeting him was like a big wake-up call. She’d danced with a man who would one day become king. She tried not to let herself think about it too much, or else she knew her thoughts would spiral out of control.

Harry and his brother wore a simple black suit, a change from his usual style, and his mother and sisters were donned in modest dresses she knew were designer and likely cost the same as her home.

Men with flashing cameras were going crazy behind the gates, desperately trying to get the perfect shot of the country’s “perfect” family.

Upon seeing the paparazzi, Rose was instantly reminded of how lucky she and Harry were to not have been caught by anyone when they went out. She quickly picked up her phone and googled Harry’s name and filtered the results to hours before the charity event just to be sure. She sighed in relief when there were no photos or stories of the both of them.

She relaxed into her sofa and fixed her eyes on the television, watching the rest of the event, subconsciously smiling every time Harry’s handsome face popped up on the screen.

***

Three days later at work, Rose received a text from Harry. What are you doing tonight?

She quickly replied, I have a date with a really hot guy I met a while back.

She barely put her phone down before it pinged with another message. What? Who is he? Tell him you’re busy.

She grinned. I don’t know. He’s kind of cute. Did I mention he’s a prince?

Her phone vibrated with a call, Harry’s name in block letters at the top of the screen. She accepted the call and brought it up to her ear. “Hello?”

“You’re not funny.”

She barked out a laugh, then winced and apologized to her coworkers whose desks were adjacent to hers. “I think I am.”

She heard him huff through the line then say, “Can I pick you up at seven?”

“Where do you want to take me?” She asked, tamping down her giddiness. It had only been less than a week since she’d last seen him, but she missed him.

“I thought we could take a walk on the beach, maybe have some ice cream?”

“How romantic of you,” she teased.

She could almost see his eyes rolling. “Are you in? I haven’t been able to go out in public since that morning charity.”

“Why not?”

He sighed. “Normally after making such a public appearance, we’re encouraged to stay low-key for a couple days. Something about the media being on high alert.”

Suddenly remembering the thoughts she had the morning she watched him on TV, she instantly knew what he meant. Rose worried her lip between her teeth as she tried to form the words to articulate the worry that had been building up since that day.

“Harry, will there be people following us?” She closed her eyes, hoping she didn’t sound stupid.

The other end of the line was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke up. “You know what, change of plans. Wear something comfortable.”

“Oh,” she ran a hand through her hair and sat back in her chair. “Okay.”

“I can’t wait to see you, Rose.”

She smiled. “You too,” she whispered.

***

Harry said to wear something comfortable, so she slipped on the most comfortable outfit she owned: A pair of joggers and matching crewneck. He’d only ever seen her dressed up, she figured she would let herself look more casual for once. Her doorbell rang just as she was slipping on a pair of Nikes. Reaching over, she opened the door to reveal a nervous-looking Harry standing with his car key in hand.

“Hi,” he said, a smile breaking onto his face at the sight of her then pulling her in for a hug.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, breathing in the cologne she absolutely loved.

“You look lovely,” he said as he pulled back to take a look at her.

She couldn’t resist kissing his cheek. “Please, I’m wearing glorified pyjamas.”

He looked down at his own pair of joggers and t-shirt. “I’d say you understood the assignment.”

She laughed as she followed him to his flashy car. It wasn’t the same one he picked her up in on their previous date, but just as nice.

Less than a half hour later, Harry had driven them to the middle of the city and into an underground parking garage of a large high-rise building. One of the tallest she’d ever seen in person. It had a modern design, the surface covered in mirrored windows. He drove through the garage until the car reached a closed door. He inched the car closer until the sensor detected it and opened the door, allowing the car to enter a smaller parking area containing two other cars, one of them Rose recognized as the one she’d been in on their last date.

“Do you live here?” She asked, taken aback.

“Yes,” he smiled nervously. “This is my private parking.”

“I can see that,” she frowned. “I thought you lived with your family, at the palace.”

“You and everyone else in the world,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You don’t?”

He unbuckled his seat belt, and pocketed his key before turning towards her. “I come from a not so traditional family, but I need my own space despite the responsibilities that are expected of me. I’m a man in my twenties who values his privacy so I moved out when I was nineteen. Under a fake name.” 

She was shocked by the revelation, even more by the fact that he was trusting her with his information. 

“Nobody knows you live here?”

“I mean, the other residents do, but they’re under contract.”

“And your family?”

“Of course they know where I live,” he chuckled. “They just don’t come here. They don’t want to risk being seen here because they respect my space, they want to make sure I have all the privacy I can get away from the public eye, because, well, one day I won’t have that luxury.”

Rose deflated at the reminder of what his future entailed. “Do you ever think about it? Being heir and all?”

Harry looked down at his lap, picking an invisible thread on his pants. “Let’s go inside,” he said at last. 

Taking the hint, Rose smiled and opened her door, Harry doing the same. He scanned a card inside the elevator and keyed in a code on the keypad. The lift immediately started rising, only halting when it reached the final floor of the building. 

Nothing could have prepared Rose for the extravagance that would welcome her as soon as the doors opened. An entire wall was made up of giant windows, overlooking the bustling city underneath. They were so high up, she couldn't hear any of it. Instead, the height provided a peaceful silence in an otherwise busy area. The flooring was marble, the luxury kind one would only see on TV, and the place was spotless. 

Harry’s warm hand on the small of her back urged her to walk inside, the elevator doors closing behind them. She took in the open concept penthouse, a staircase in the corner of the grand living room leading to what she assumed was his private corner, the bedroom and bath.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. 

Harry laughed behind her, before grabbing her hand and leading her to the kitchen she knew even Gordon Ramsay would drool over. “Would you like something to drink?”

Snapping herself out of her dumfounded state, she looked at him. “What?”

He suppressed a smile and repeated, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Oh! Um, yes please,” she said, wringing her fingers together.

“Relax, Rose.”

“How could I?” She asked, eyes wide. “I feel like I’ll break something just by looking at it!”

“That’s fine, love. I want you to be comfortable.”

“But this place—”

“Is my home,” he interrupted, stepping closer and gently grabbing her shoulders. “And I made the choice to trust you with my secret, so please, make yourself comfortable.”

Her eyes softened. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”He leaned forward to capture her lips with his, and she melted into him without hesitation. She’d been wanting to do this since their first kiss and the wait was definitely worth it. 

He pulled back with a grin, leaving her breathless. “So, drink?”

She nodded, exhaling as an attempt to calm her beating heart. 

“I also made us dinner, I just need to put it in the oven.”

The statement made her heart swell, a feeling of fondness for the man in front of her taking over. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he smiled, as he pushed a few buttons on the oven until a yellow light started flashing and the desired temperature was displayed. “Can’t bring you here and not feed you.”

She chuckled and pulled out a stool tucked into the island to sit on. “No you can’t.”

***

The food would take an hour, so the two decided to go to his living room to wait. They were cuddled up on his couch, watching a movie she’d chosen and that he’d seen a dozen times. Rose didn’t know that though.

“Do you ever worry people will recognize you?” She asked, out of the blue. “When we went out together, you seemed unfazed by the looks some were giving you.”

He shrugged. “I get used to it, really. Besides, Fen is always around in case something happens.”

She pushed off the couch to look at him. “Fen?”

“My security detail,” he nodded. “He’s always around when I’m out and about.”

“But, I didn’t see him the other night. Or the first time we went out together.”

He grinned. “That means he’s doing his job.”

She frowned as she slowly tucked herself back into his side. His arm automatically wrapped around her. “So, we were being followed all night?”

“It’s for safety purposes, Rose. Plus, I would never intentionally put you in danger.”

“What could possibly be so dangerous?”

Harry ducked to press a kiss to her head, breathing in the shampoo scent that coated her red strands. “Anything could be dangerous, even the paparazzi.”

The thought of being followed by paparazzi sent shivers down her spine. She’d seen videos of celebrities being hounded by them and felt sorry for the public figures who had to live with that.

“What if they see us together. Would they publish photos? Are you scared of what they may think?”

“Are you ashamed of me, Rose?”

She craned her neck to kiss him softly. “I would never be ashamed of you, Your Highness.”

“I knew it!” He cried, dramatically pushing her away. “You’re just using me for my title!”

“How did you know?” She gasped, trying to hold in a smile.

“I’ve always felt something was off with you,” he tutted, leaning his back on the arm rest and pulling her on top of him.

She giggled, raising her hand to run her fingers through his hair before smoothing it down. “Why is that?” She whispered.

“There’s no way someone as beautiful as you would give me the time of day,” he murmured, brushing his lips on the corner of her mouth.

She pulled him in to give her a proper kiss, their legs tangling as he switched positions until he was hovering on top of her, forearms caging her head against the sofa. 

“If anything, you’re out of my league, Prince.”

The words didn’t sit right with him. He pulled back. “Don’t ever say that,” he frowned.

“It’s true—“

He kissed her again. “Who I am... What I come from... Means nothing between you and me.”

She stared at him intently, the conversation taking an unexpected turn.

“Do you hear me?” He murmured, brushing his lips along her cheek.

She nodded.

He sighed. “Good.”

Rose gasped when Harry’s mouth was suddenly on hers, instantly brushing her tongue against his in what could be the best kiss she’d ever had. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him down to feel his comforting weight on top of her. The kiss morphed into something wetter as his hands trailed along her side and dipped under her shirt. She shivered from the contact, bending her knees to cage his body between her legs. Harry brushed his lips against her jaw before slowly making his way down her throat to the fabric of her top covering her chest. His hands inched along her skin to her back where he applied pressure, making her arch, chest pressing against his own.

“Harry,” she breathed as he pressed open mouthed kisses up her throat, leaving a wet trail.

He hummed in response before coming back up to connect their lips. She sighed into his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck as his hands trailed back to caress her sides. “Can I take this off?” He breathed, fingering the hem of her shirt.

She nodded against his neck, where she tongued at his skin, savouring the feeling of just being so close to him. He pulled her shirt up but before he could take it off completely, his phone rang, the shrill ringtone breaking through their bubble.

Harry scrambled to get off the couch, recognizing the ringtone, while Rose fought to catch her breath, mourning the feeling of his weight on her.

Harry excused himself and left the room to speak to whoever it was while Rose readjusted her top and sat up. She decided to braid her hair while waiting for him to finish.

Just as she was tying up her hair, she heard his footsteps before he appeared with a grim look on his face. He tossed his phone on the coffee table.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he smiled but she didn’t buy it.

She tucked her legs under her and extended a hand towards him.

Harry accepted it and she tugged him over to sit next to her. He complied and slumped back, neck resting on the back of the couch.

“It’s just PR stuff. You don’t need to worry about it,” he said, eyes never leaving the ceiling.

She felt her heart sink to her stomach. “What kind of PR stuff?”

Before he could answer, she jumped at a sudden beeping coming from the kitchen.

He chuckled half-heartedly as she held a hand up to her chest. “It’s just the oven, love. Come on, food’s ready.”

“But what about—“

He kissed her. “I’m hungry.”

She pouted but decided to drop it, not wanting the mood to be ruined.

***

Rose placed her fork on her empty plate and got up to make her way to the sink. “How did you learn to cook like that?” She turned on the water and waited for it to turn hot before rinsing her plate. She reached for the sponge and squirted soap on it, intending to wash all the dishes.

Harry walked up behind her and slid a hand around her waist, splaying his hand on her stomach and pulling her back against him. “My mother,” he said before reaching over and turning off the water.

“Hey!” She went to turn it back on but he wrapped a hand around the tap, preventing her from moving it. “Harry…” She warned.

“Rose…”

She turned around and crossed her arms, ignoring the way her body reacted to his proximity. 

He laughed, and pried the wet sponge out of her hand, then pushed her out of the way to rinse it and put it back in place. 

Rose scowled. “Let me do this for you.”

“No, I have a dishwasher that could do that for me. I want to spend time with you, not watch you wash my shit.”

“You do so much for me, Harry. Let me wash your shit.”

“I can wash my own shit.”

“Okay, this is getting gross.”

Harry giggled and kissed her cheek before walking over to his fridge. She took the time to wash her hands and dry them before turning around to ask if he needed help with whatever it was he was doing.

She was met with the sight of him standing next to the kitchen island, a delicious-looking chocolate cake on it with two small forks. 

Harry chuckled at the way her eyes lit up, knowing her love for chocolate was the way to her heart. 

“I was too shy to ask if you had something sweet to follow up with dinner,” she admitted sheepishly, biting her bottom lip as she sat on the stool while he did the same across from her.

His smile widened, handing her a fork. “I would never forget.”

She blushed and followed his lead by taking the first bite of the cake. “Oh my God,” she moaned. “Is this André’s?”

Harry looked at her, horrified. “Don’t ever say another man’s name after moaning like that.”

She snorted, taking another bite of the delicious cake. 

“Yes,” Harry said finally, expression morphing into one of amusement as he watched her devour her half of the dessert. “He did make it. Something about giving the lovely lady a real treat.”

Rose laughed at the way he mocked André’s accent, and pushed the plate towards him to finish the cake. “I can’t take another bite,” she groaned. 

***

Rose awoke to the sound of faint chattering. She didn’t remember when she fell asleep but once she was aware enough to take in her surroundings, she realized she was still in Harry’s penthouse, curled up on his couch under a warm blanket. A warm feeling engulfed her when she realized Harry had tucked her in.

“Fuck you, I can do whatever I want.”

She frowned, knuckling her eye to try and wake herself up as she heard Harry start pacing, wherever he was.

“I know, I know, she’s been telling me the same thing all week.”

“Harry?” She called out. He didn’t hear her.

“If I hear you call her that one more time, you’re fired.”

“Harry,” she called again, louder. His pacing stopped and a second later, he appeared from around the corner, phone up to his ear.

“Rose,” he sighed, then scowled at whatever the person on the other end said. “Yes, now don’t call me back.” He locked his phone and gave her his attention once again. “Sorry about that.”

She smiled sleepily and reached over to caress his face. He breathed out and knelt on the ground to come face to face with her. Her fingers wound in the short hairs at the nape of his neck and he exhaled, dropping his forehead to her collarbone. “Sometimes I hate being me.”

“Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head and a laugh bubbled out of her, unwillingly. He snapped his head up. “What’s so funny?”

“Tickled me,” she mumbled.

He snorted then got up, asking her to move over before laying down next to her and pulling her to his side. 

“You seemed angry,” she said gently.

She could feel him tense under her. “My mother was just pissed at me, had my publicist relay a message.”

“Did you do anything?”

Harry looked into her warm brown eyes, his own glinting with mischief. “When am I not?”

Rose giggled and laid her head on his shoulder. She could feel herself being pulled back into unconsciousness, and as much as she tried to fight it, she couldn't. She wanted to stay awake for him, to comfort him further but exhaustion suddenly washed over her. Before being completely lost to the world, she could’ve sworn she heard him murmur, “I won’t let anything come between us.”

***

THANK YOU FOR READING <3333 lmk if you’d like to be tagged !!! 

Tag list: @mellamolayla​

[eloquent--asshole]

My Date With the President’s Son

a/n: I’ve been getting a lot of anons recently letting me know they couldn’t find this piece. Well... I found out it was deleted. So, here is a repost of My Date With the President’s Son! I was so sad when I found out it was gone :( BUT IT’S BACK!!! :) And much love to all of you that let me know it was missing! Come talk to me about this, future ideas, or anything! --PJ

hey, hi, hello! this is my submission for the Pick Your Poison fic challenge! I went with a good ole fake dating piece. Also, sidenote: this is the first pic i’ve actually decided to post! Please feel free to message me with any comments, questions, or concern. Also, an absolutely MASSIVE shoutout to @for-fucks-sake-h, @oh-honey-styles, and @andwhenshesays for creating this and letting me be a part of it! I’m so happy I decided to do this even though I was an absolute mess about it! Buckle up kids, it’s about to get messy!

read the other challenge pieces here!!!!! and support them!

//

"Miss. Y/L/N, I don't think you understand the immense pressure we're under with this mission." My boss, Mr. Thompson, was staring at me from across the conference table. The room was bright. Almost too bright from the fluorescent lights beaming on us.

I looked at my hands resting on my thighs under the table before returning to his gaze. "Well, Mr. Thompson, I don’t think you understand that this goes against not only our ethical codes but my moral beliefs as well.”

Mr. Thompson spoke as he got up and came around the table, taking a seat on the glass two feet to my left. "Miss. Y/L/N, you are obligated to serve your country. However the circumstances may seem. If you do not take this mission, I will be suggesting your employment for termination."

I ran a hand down my cheek. "What –“ I ran the options through my head. Get fired or help the President’s son. Easy decision, really. “How could this even work? Does he know?"

"No, he doesn’t know. Don't worry about the details of that. We will take care of it. Nevertheless, on your part, it must seem as authentic as possible." I looked at him in disbelief.

How could this be happening? What did I do to deserve the position to role play as the President’s slutty son’s romantic interest? I let out a heavy sigh before nodding at Mr. Thompson. He let a small smile break through his tough demeanor.

“Very well, we’ve set up for you two to ‘meet’ tomorrow.” Mr. Thompson got up to open the door at the end of the room. “Oh,” he paused turning to look at me one last time, “And don’t worry, if anything goes off course, you’ll be wearing an earpiece and a mic. So we’ll know and figure it out as we go along. Remember Y/N. We’re all in this together.”

But were we?

//

I sat in position, waiting for the signal. I was outside a quaint coffee shop where my target was currently buying a coffee.

As I got my cue from the team, I got up and started walking in the direction of the van that was watching our every move. The door to the coffee shop flew open and I felt a heavy weight rush into me "Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even see you there," came rushing out of the stranger’s mouth. I looked down at the spilled coffee on the ground between us.

"No, no. It's okay, I should have been paying more attention." I said, letting an embarrassed blush creep onto my cheeks. Why did he have to actually run into me?

"Can I buy you another coffee?” He offered.

"Oh, you don't have to do that"

"No, I insist. Really." He said, reopening the door to the café.

"Okay," I hesitated. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

"Nice to meet you, Y/N, I’m Harry. What do you like to drink?”

I heard Thompson in my ear immediately, "Vanilla soy latte,” he basically shouted.

"Vanilla soy latte, please" I offered a smile to the barista, hiding my wince. “A grande.”

"You're joking." Harry smiled down at me. He was taller than I expected. Standing about 6”1.  His curls cut into the frame of his sunglasses. Cute. I thought to myself.

"Why?" I asked, letting a giggle escape my lips.

"That's what I drink" He chuckled. Okay. I see what you’re doing, Thompson.

We smiled at each other and finished ordering. The drinks were up almost instantly. We sat at a table I chose outside. Purposely, so the team could continue watching.

"So, tell me about yourself," He started, taking a sip of his latte.

"I-" I paused briefly, waiting for instruction from Thompson.

"You work as the marketing director for Accent" Accent is a huge professional services firm. There’s no way I’m getting away with this.

"I work as a marketing director.” I took a breath, “For Accent."

"That's cool, I have some friends who work over there." Is he onto me? "Do you know Rich?”

"Rich Charleston. Operations Manager. 5"5. Auburn hair. Brown eyes.” Thompson barked in my ear.

"Oh yeah. The operations manager? He's not that tall. Auburn hair?" I questioned, a coy smile playing at my lips.

"Yeah! That's him! Funny, I've been to a few work parties with them. I've never seen you around." He looked at his coffee and came back to me. I felt my cheeks tinge pink yet again. No way I’m making it through this.

"Y/N, you're doing great. Just go with it. You started at Accent three months ago. They haven't had a company party in five months.” Thompson stated. It’s weird. Almost as if playing detective. Wait. I am a detective. A very…high end detective.

"Oh, yeah. I only started a few months ago, so that would make sense." I giggled, taking a sip of my latte.

Harry’s phone started ringing in his pocket. He slipped it out to check the notification. "Shit, sorry. I actually have to get going. I'm late for a meeting. Could I get your number?" He asked, handing over his phone.

"Yeah, that'd be nice." I took his phone where the ‘add new contact’ was already on his screen. I entered my information and handed it back. "Great, I'll see you around then."

"Gladly." He was off, hopping into the back seat of an awaiting SUV across the street. As it pulled away, I noticed it was in a no-parking zone. Of course, it would be. He's the president's son.

//

It has been three weeks since my ‘run in’ with Harry. He texted me an hour later asking if he could see me again. We had seen each other twice over the course of three weeks. Each time in a public setting to ensure the FBI could have an eye on us at all times.

We talked mostly about my work. He had finally let it slide through text that he was the President’s son. It was easy to act surprised through text. It would be harder to act as if I didn’t know my coworkers if it ever got to the point that I would be seeing him in a more intimate setting.

I was starting to realize why so many women were swooning for him. Not only was he handsome –  he was charming, sweet, and extremely articulate.

I sat in Mr. Thompson’s office discussing plans for the upcoming benefit. The benefit that Harry had yet to ask me to.

"Mr. Thompson, he has no idea this plan is underway. Like what happens if he tries to make advances on me. I did not sign up to be this boy's actual girlfriend.” I borderline complained.

"Miss. Y/L/N. This is your duty for the time being. We're trying to keep him safe and clean up his image. This is the best way we can do that.”

"Mr. Thompson, with all due respect, what if he actually starts to have feelings for me. What if he asks me to be his girlfriend? What if – "

Mr. Thompson raised a hand to interrupt me. "Miss Y/L/N, if that happens, we will handle it. Mr. Styles will never know. Now for the upcoming benefit. You will attend with Mr. Styles. As always, you will wear an earpiece. Members of the secret service will be aware of your presence. If something comes up, I will be in your ear warning you to get Mr. Styles out of there. Understood?"

"Yes sir,” I agreed, sulking into the chair. “But sir, he hasn’t even asked me.” Thompson’s hands brushed through the air - almost as to dismiss my thoughts.

“Oh, don’t worry, kid.” He snickered. “Mr. Horan, the head of his security, has intel that he will be asking you.”

//

As predicted, Harry did ask me to join him at the benefit. Giving me a two-day notice. Scratch that. Harry said he wanted me to come to a “party” and ‘wear something suited for a ball’  I recounted the statement as he was dropping me off from our brunch “date” on Thursday.

I stared at myself in the champagne-colored gown in my full-length mirror. I let out a frustrated sigh. This was so wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this to him. He’s actually really sweet. How can I untangle myself from this mess? I could commit treason, leave the country, and lay under the radar. One part of my brain told me. Or be put to death. The other part reminded me. I gave myself one last look-over and decided it was time to head to the lobby.

My roommate, Ashley, whistled at me as I walked out of my bedroom into the kitchen. “Going somewhere nice?” she asked.

“Work event,” I brushed off. I hadn’t told her anything. Specifically, because of the confidentiality behind the mission.

“With Harry Styles?” I froze in my tracks, taking a deep breath.

“How did you know that?”

“Sweetheart. You are all over the magazine covers. Do you think no one has cameras in public? I was speechless. How could I be so naïve that journalists who have such a strong eye on Harry’s personal, party lifestyle wouldn’t spot us out?

“Honey,” I heard our third roommate, Summer, call from the couch. “Did you really think you could be so slick?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ashlie chimed in.

Before I could answer, a call from Harry popped up on my phone. “I’m sorry, I have to go. He’s here.” I said turning on my heel to exit our apartment.

“Wait – “ Summer stopped me – “Can you please give us some juicy details on the man-who – I mean your new fling when you get home?”

I laughed at her response with a nod and started my trek to the lobby.

He was waiting outside the SUV, dressed in a black suit and a matching champagne tie. “Well don’t you look lovely.”

I blushed at his compliment. The security guard driving us gave me a curt nod as he opened the door for us. “Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself.”

When I dodged his kiss, he pulled me in for a hug before gesturing for me to get in first. “Thanks.” Despite the disappointment in his eyes, Harry’s smile was beaming. He looked absolutely adora – Y/N stop. This is strictly for work.

The door shut behind us and in half a second we were whizzing down the street to the banquet hall where the Benefit was being held.

“I’m really happy you agreed to be my date tonight,” Harry commented, not breaking his gaze from the window. “You can meet my parents.”

Parents? As in, the President and first lady of the United States? My body shivered at the thought. I have been in the same room as them before, yes. But meeting them as not an employee – but their son’s date, friend or whatever you want to call it – is terrifying.

��Wow, that would be – “ I tried to find the right words – “nice.”

“Really?” His eyes wandered to mine. “Most people would about shit themselves right about now.”

Well I’m damn near close, Styles.

When we pulled up to the entrance of the venue, our driver – Niall, I learned – hopped out and got the door for us. My eyes were blinded by the flashing lights. Harry grabbed my hand and helped me onto the ground. As we made our ascent, paparazzi were flooding him with questions. “Harry, Harry! Who’s this?” “New flame of the week kid?” “I heard you were bringing Kendall Jenner” could be heard from every angle.

Harry apologized as soon as the doors shut behind us. I shook my head to let him know it was okay.

“I am way too sober for this,” Harry mentioned before we walked into the noisy room. “And it hasn’t even started.” I let out a quiet giggle as he smiled at me.

The benefit passed with ease. As Harry walked us around making small talk and thanking people for coming, Thompson was in my ear telling me who people were and how they got invited. Harry and I kept making trips back to the bar. While I nursed two glasses of wine, Harry had drank 4 rum and cokes. It was becoming clear that Harry was feeling good. Almost too good for him to continue being at this event.

As a last stop around the room, we walked towards his parents.

“Harry, my boy. Thanks for being here tonight,” President Styles pulled Harry in for a hug.

“Like I had a choice?” He rolled his eyes. President Styles gave a laugh, one Harry didn’t reciprocate.

“Who’s this?” His mother asked as her gaze moved to me. Her eyes were kind. They matched Harry’s, I noticed.

“Mom, dad.” Harry said as he wrapped an arm around my waist, “This is my date, Y/N.”

“Hi,” I offered my hand to shake, “It’s so nice to meet you. Thank you for having me tonight.”

“The pleasures all ours, sweetie.” His mother affirmed. I felt a smile creep onto my lips. His parents were sweet - partly informal.

As we were making our way to a table, we were stopped by a friend of Harry’s – Louis. Apparently, they had been long time friends. As they grew up, Louis had started a media company, one which Harry happily invested in to help him out.

“Harry, this your date?” He asked curiously.

“Yes, this is my future girlfriend, Y/N.” His words slurred, I felt the wind knock out of me. Girlfriend? FUTURE girlfriend?

“How about a kiss for the camera?” Louis interrupted my thoughts. “For a piece I’m working on?”

“Why not?” This boy was definitely drunk. Without having time to react, Harry grabbed my waist and quickly, yet gently, pressed his lips to mine. It lasted only about half a second and I found myself wanting more.

Harry chatted with Louis for a few more minutes before bidding goodbye and continuing our walk to a table in the back. I brought my fingers to brush against my lips, still feeling his burning into my memory.

The next hour passed quickly. Harry had downed another two drinks because “I’ve already talked to everyone I need to and now I can relax.” I could see why the media calls him a party boy. He’s 0 – 100 real quick.

Our conversation flowed easily and I found myself enjoying his presence.

“I’m having a really good time,” Harry slurred into my ear. He snuck an arm around my shoulders at some point, and I didn’t really care.

“So am I.”

“Good, I was really nervous to ask you.” His admission took me by surprise. The entire three weeks I’ve known him, he never seemed shy. He was always respectful. I’ve learned so much about the party boy that always seemed to be judged. If it were me, no one would care if I went out with my friends every weekend and brought a different guy home. But because he’s, well, Harry Styles. It matters. The presidential family is supposed to be clean, polished, not having any dirty laundry. But the media loves to air his.

I learned Harry had a – what most would call – normal upbringing. Small home in the outskirts of NYC. He went to public school up until high school, when his father had decided to run for congress and got in. His favorite color is yellow – because it’s happy. He loves music from the 70’s and 80’s because it reminds him of his childhood. He knows about his party-boy persona and absolutely loathes it – but continues to live it because it’s the only way he can let go of the stress from being the President’s son.

“Why were you nervous?”

“Well, it’s always intimidating to meet a beautiful woman who knows what she wants in life and won’t settle for less. I was especially nervous because I thought not only my reputation, but my status would scare you off.” My chest felt tight. If only he knew that everything, well half of everything, I told him were lines being fed to me from the Director of the FBI. “And I’m sorry it took so long for me to tell you. I didn’t want to lie. But I felt like it would be easier for us to get to know each other before I told you.”

There’s that word. Lie. I hate that word but yet, it’s what I was doing almost every time we were together.

“I don’t want you to ever feel nervous or feel like you have something to hide from me.” I took the hand he had draped around me in my own. “I just want you to be yourself. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. I don’t care about your status or the fact that your parents are the President and First Lady. That’s not something you should feel ashamed of.”

For the first time, Harry’s smile met his eyes. He’s smiled plenty when we’re together, but this was different. He tugged me closer and placed his lips on my cheek. They burned from his touch. My body temperature must have risen 10 degrees.

Did Thompson see that? Of course, he did. Wait, where is he? My smile dropped as I looked across the room, hoping for a sign of Thompson. He hadn’t been in my ear for a while. I wonder if everything’s okay.

“Everything’s fine,” I moved my eyes around the room once more, confused. “I can see that look on your face. I know that look. You were getting worried.”

Where the heck is Thompson and how can he see my face.

“Niall is about to grab you to take you both home. So, I’m off for the night. You’re on your own kid.” I heard the familiar static as they shut my earpiece off. So, they had heard that entire conversation, wonderful.

I smiled, reaching for my ear to take the piece out, but halting my movements when I remembered Harry was still sat next to me.

“Mr. Styles, the car is here.” Niall leaned down to whisper to Harry.

“Alright, love. Off we go.” Harry let his arm fall from my shoulder. I stood to grab my clutch off the table. I paused when I noticed Harry guzzling the rest of his drink before setting the glass on the table. “What?” he asked innocently. “I wasn’t going to just leave it there. Someone could try to sell that since my lips have touched it!” I smirked at him before linking my arm with his.

The drive home was filled with Harry trying to be touchy feely and a bit too flirtatious. Between him keeping trying to rest his hand on my knee, and the many compliments he spewed out in a drunken slur, I felt myself loosening up and enjoying his drunken, flirty presence. Niall made eye contact with me in the mirror one too many times for me to be comfortable with.

He knows.

When we pulled up to my building, I opened the door only to feel a tug on my wrist. I craned my neck to look at Harry, who didn’t let go of my arm.

“Will you kiss me?” His glazed eyes bore into mine as he leaned over to my half of the seat, “For real this time?” I contemplated for a second. Yes, I would like to kiss you again. Will I? I can’t.

I giggled at his lazy smile and glanced to the mirror at Niall who seemed to be minding his own business, “You’re drunk Harry.”

“Would you reconsider if I was sober?”

“Goodnight, Harry” I said, hopping out of the SUV.

“I’ll take that as a maybe!” He called as I shut the door.

What is this boy doing to me?

//

It’s been three days since the benefit. I hadn’t heard from Harry much, maybe a text or two over the last two days. I wish I could say I didn’t care. But I did. Yes, what I was doing was wrong. But after seeing him in a vulnerable state being drunk at the benefit, he grew on me. A lot more than I’d like to admit. Even though I hadn’t heard from him, I still had the inside scoop from Thompson. Apparently, Mr. Horan was keeping a tight leash on him. No parties or clubs recently.

One thing that should’ve been noticed a lot sooner on my part was that every time I was with Harry or Harry was out, he had Niall maybe 5 feet away. So why the hell would they need me?

Oh right – clean up the image.

“Y/N!” Ashlie screamed from the kitchen. I came to a screeching halt in front of her at the counter. “Have you seen these?” I furrowed my brows as she angled her laptop screen towards me. Right on the landing page of the most popular magazine’s website was Harry’s picture. Stumbling out of a club with none-other than Kendall Jenner, hand in hand.

My brows furrowed even closer when I grabbed the laptop from the counter. I quietly walked to the couch and sat down. ‘Eligible bachelor, Harry Styles couldn’t seem to get enough of the model as they were seen being cozy all night at popular night club, Avalon Nightclub downtown Washington, D.C.’

Would this jeopardize my mission? How would Thompson handle this? What now? Was he really done with me just like that?

With too many thoughts to process, I sat the computer next to me and stared at the blank TV. The weight of the couch shifted next to me. Ashlie slid her arms around my torso and rested her head on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” She was trying to be empathetic; I know. But I also didn’t want her pity.

“It’s okay,” I tilted my head to rest on top of hers. “Who needs him anyways?”

Wait, I do.

//

I stared out the window behind Mr. Thompson. He tapped his fingers in pattern on his desk, other hand resting on his cheek.

“Miss. Y/L/N.” He started, stopping his fingers from tapping. I flicked my eyes to his. “I knew this would be hard, having the type of personality he does. He doesn’t – doesn’t have a long attention span when it comes to women.”

I looked back to the window, admiring the cars streaming by on the 695. I already knew that. We all knew it. You thought one of your agents could change him? People don’t change because you want them to. They change because they want to.

When I didn’t offer a response, Thompson continued. “Did something happen after the benefit? After we unplugged you?”

I thought back to that night. Our drive home was filled mainly with his giggles and slurred pick-up lines.

“I don’t think – “ I didn’t kiss him. He wanted to kiss me, and I didn’t. “He wanted to kiss me, Mr. Thompson.”

“You didn’t kiss him, right?”

“Yes.” He quirked an eyebrow. “No, I mean – yes, I didn’t kiss him.” I clarified. I wanted to though.

“Miss. Y/L/N, we’ve brought in Mr. Horan. Head of his security. ”Thompson waved to Mr. Horan through the window. The screech from the chair next to me as it slid across the tile floor. My eyes flashed to the man next to me. Niall. Now it makes sense.

“Miss. Y/L/N,” Niall cleared his throat, “Nice to see you again.”

“You as well, Mr. Horan.”

“As you know, Mr. Horan here is the head of Mr. Styles’ security and  has been keeping an eye on him since the beginning of President Styles’ term. He’s here to shed some insight and help us through this obstacle. He knows Harry the best, so we will have his assistance for matters like this.” Mr. Thompson gestured to Niall to start speaking about what he knows.

“Yeah, so” Niall shifted in his seat and crossed his ankle at the knee. “Harry’s a bit frustrated. He feels like, I don’t know. That you – “ I caught his eyes drift to mine – “aren’t ‘interested’ in him anymore”

I scoffed at the remark, earning a glare from Mr. Thompson. “Miss. Y/L/N, a problem?”

“Sorry it’s just – “ I took a deep breath to calm my nerves, resting my palms on my thighs – “He feels like I’m not interested? When three days after the benefit he’s out gallivanting around D.C? That’s ridiculous.”

“See,” Niall turned towards me, “That’s just it. That’s how Harry copes. He doesn’t have healthy coping mechanisms. He thinks the best way to get around his issues is to drink them away. It’s why he drank so much at the benefit. It’s why he drinks so much in general.”

It explains a lot. He had told me that he’s been under stress, and I can only imagine how much stress he feels from having to live up to a perfect image that he can’t attain with his reputation.

“So, what do I do?”

“I’ve tried to knock some sense into him. I may protect Harry for a living, but he is my friend, and I care about him and his feelings.”

//

The Saturday sun was warm on my skin. I stared at the clouds in the sky, listened to the kids playing about 50 feet away, and the ducks in the pond. I should be at the gym, I reminded myself. Or at least running.

It’d been a week since I last saw Harry, part of me missed him. Thompson said he was going to work with Niall and how to get the boy back on track. Why me out of all people? There were so many young women in the FBI at this point, so why me? ‘Because we see the most potential in you. Half these women won’t make it another 6 months.’ Thompson’s voice rang in my ears from our conversation yesterday afternoon.

The bright darkness dimmed behind my eyelids. I opened one to see a figure standing above me. I jolted out of my comfort.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” I said sitting up and criss crossing my legs.

“Uh – “ raising a hand to the back of their neck – “Can we talk?”

“Yeah Summer, what’s up?” She sat opposite of me in the grass and looked around the park.

“It’s a nice day today, isn’t it?” Her eyes never settled on mine. She’s being cautious.

“Yeah, great day to be outside.” I looked over to the swimming ducks, still quacking at each other.

What I would give to be a duck right now. Not having any worries about whether or not my job was still intact. If my friends hated me for lying to them. If the boy I liked was done with me before even having a chance to know me, and really me.

“So,” Summer started after a few minutes of silence. I looked at her expectantly. “Someone dropped by today to see you.” My heart jumped; my palms started to sweat. Was Harry at my apartment?

“Harry?”

“Uh – “ she faltered – “No, Louis?” I scrunched my brows, confused. I wracked my brain trying to figure out who Louis was. “He said he’s a friend. You apparently met him at the Benefit? I told him you were out and didn’t know when you’d be back. He said to call him and left his number.” I looked at my crossed ankles. Oh, Louis. Wait, Louis took that picture of me and Harry. What does he want? “Do you know him?”

I looked back at Summer. “Yeah, he’s… he’s one of Harry’s friends.”

“You should probably call him, he looked in a rush.” I lifted my head in a nod, letting my eyes fall to the grass between us. A comfortable silence took over. “Y/N, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about whatever happened between you and… him. But I’m here for you if you do.”

“I know that, Summer. Thank you.”

//

I took a few steps into my room and tossed my purse onto my bed. I decided I should give Louis a call to see what’s going on.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Louis. It’s Y/N. I heard you stopped by today.”

“Oh!” He sounds surprised. His tone quickly hushed. “Y/N, thanks for calling. Yeah, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay,” I sat in my desk chair with one leg tucked under me. “What’s going on?”

“Can you meet me?” There was a long pause.

“Wh – “

“In an hour, at the park by the white house.” Before I could respond, I heard the click of him hanging up.

What?

//

I didn’t take much time to get ready to meet Louis. I threw a gray zip up sweatshirt over my tank top and slipped on my flare jeans with converse and was on my way. Louis texted me to say he wanted to ask me a few questions about the benefit – for a promotion he was working on for his company.

The sun had set on my way over, the purple, black sky taking over the D.C air. I glanced at the sky as I stood by the lamp post in the park. The stars look beautiful tonight. My eyes kept traveling around the park. Something I was trained to do. Have your eyes everywhere at all times.

I heard him before I saw him. The heavy footsteps, deep breathing. He sounds troubled. I whipped my head in the opposite direction.

“Y/N?” He asked, pulling the hood off his head. I could only nod. “What are you doing here?”

“I – “ I was off the script. No earpiece with Thompson telling me what to do, who to be, anything. “Just out for a stroll.” Harry stared at me as if he wasn’t really seeing me. He shook his head, his long locks falling in front of his face. He ran his hand through his hair, pulling the pieces that had fallen from his face.

“By… the white house?” He asked incredulously.

“Yeah, I love this park. Very peaceful with some great views.” I concluded. Louis sent me here, he knows what he’s doing. He and Harry are longtime friends. They must’ve talked.

“Right…” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around.

“I wanted to talk.” “We should talk.” We spoke at the same time. Our eyes locked before breaking into giggles and looking at our feet.

“You go ahead,” Harry encouraged.

“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked.

“I –“ He rubbed the back of his neck. “How drunk was I that night?”

I blinked harshly, not expecting him to ask that. “What?”

“I don’t remember much after slamming my drink right before we left and…”  He took a step away from me. “I was a little embarrassed and I wasn’t sure if I said or did anything wrong and… I thought if I held off for a bit then it wouldn’t be a big deal…”

“So why still didn’t you call?” Harry shook his head, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“You didn’t get my voicemail?” He quirked his head.

“What voicemail?”

“Y/N, I called you like three times.”

“What?” Then it hit me. Thompson. Thompson tapped my phone when starting the mission to have all the details. But why?

“I just kinda thought you were done with us and I had done something after the benefit.”

“Harry, I had no idea. Honest… Is that why you went out with Kendall?”

He laughed at my question. “I haven’t gone out with Kendall. I haven’t seen her in months. Those pictures are from like… November.” I was bewildered.

I composed myself before speaking, “I’m sorry to have assumed the worst…”

“It’s okay,” he stepped closer. “Can I come to your place?”

“Right now?”

He glanced at his feet and back to me, “Yeah.” He murmured. Only meaning to be heard between us two.

“Are you okay?” I tucked some stray hair behind my ear, shifting my weight from my left foot to my right.

“I just – I just don’t want to go back yet. I had to sneak out and I just need some time away.” Running one hand through his hair, he grabbed my hand with the other.

“Okay.”

The ride to my apartment was quiet. Harry didn’t say much about what was going on within the White House walls, although I’m sure I would find out come Monday, if not sooner. I was trying to read his moving eyes, but there wasn’t much to tell. His eyes told a completely different story than his lips.

His lips spoke of stress and hardship. His eyes shine like the moon over a Georgia river in the dead of night.

When I finally parked my car in the lot, Harry slid out of my car with grace, taking my hand as each of us rounded the back of my car.

“This is it,” I sighed when opening the door to my apartment.

“Wow,” He looked from the kitchen to the living room before turning to face me, “Cute.”

“Oh my gosh,” I whipped my head to see Ashlie coming into the entrance in a towel from the hallway – clearly not expecting company.

“Uh – Hi.” Harry awkwardly waved.

“Hi, wow. Wasn’t expecting you.” She gave a small smile and gestured to her attire.

“It’s not a problem. Nice to meet you,” Harry extended his hand for her, which she gladly took,  “I’m Harry.”

“Oh, I know who you are. I’m Ashlie.” Ashlie let out a flirty giggle. You know, the kind you hear at a bar when a girl is trying too hard to let a man know his jokes are ‘funny’.

“We’ll uh – be in my room.” I remarked, breaking up the awkwardness I could feel radiating through the room.

Harry trailed behind me, telling me he thought Ashlie seemed nice.

“How many roommates do you have?” He questioned, taking a seat on the foot of my bed.

“Two. My other roommate, Summer, is probably at her boyfriend’s.” I hung my hoodie over the back of my desk chair and took a seat on it backwards so I could face him. Harry nodded his head before letting his body fall back onto my bed. “So, what’s going on? At home?”

“It’s nothing,” He groaned, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

“It’s obviously something if you’re sneaking out and wandering parks at night without guards. How’d you even get away with that anyways?”

“The White House has many escape routes that can’t be seen by the control room. I’ve found them all.” He stated, putting his hands behind his head.

“Interesting.” The silence that filled the room was deafening. “Harry,” I paused waiting for him to look at me. His eyes gradually found mine. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just tired of my family and the security telling me my behavior is ‘unacceptable’ because I’m the President’s son. I can’t go out with my friends. I can’t be seen with girls who are friends. I can’t have a drink in a bar.” He stood from my bed and started pacing around my room like his life depended on it. “When I’m in the White House, all I have is people barking orders in my ear, telling me what I can and can’t do. What I can and can’t wear. Who I can and can’t see? So, I guess,” Harry brought his hands to his head and started pulling his hair at the roots, “When I do get to go out with friends, I get carried away. Unfortunately, every time.”

I didn’t know what to say. What I want to say? I can relate. What can I say? Nothing.

When he moved to sit back on my bed, I joined him. He brought his chest between his knees and bowed his head, taking the stance of looking like he was about to vomit. I rested my hand on his back and tried my best to rub soothing circles between his shoulder blades, still looking for the right words. “Harry, I’m sorry. I had no idea that was something you had to deal with.”

“I know, because I don’t share that part of my life. Not with anyone. The only one who really knows is Niall. But that’s only because he’s with me when I’m out and that’s when it all comes out.” He lifted his head and turned to look at me. “He’s the only person I really trust. He’s my best friend and I trust him with my life. I know it’s his job to be there. But, he’s the only one I really have.”

“That’s not true. You have loads of friends. I’ve seen them in the pictures with you.”

“No, those people – while they’re nice to hang out with – they only care about my status. They care about Harry Styles, President’s son. Not Harry.”

“I – I don’t know what to say.” And I truly didn’t. Here he is, spilling his heart to me again, and I can’t even reciprocate without blowing my cover.

“You don’t have to say anything. I thought Niall was the only person that actually cared about me. As in Harry, the person. And then I met you.”

“What do you mean?”

Harry sat up and turned his body towards mine, grabbing both my hands in his.

“Y/N, I know you would never do anything to hurt me. You care about me. You ask me about me, not what my family is doing, or what bills are going through congress. Or even try to advance your career through me.”

My mouth got dry, but I felt like I was drowning. How can he not see through this act? When will I give it up? When will Thompson have it cut? His eyes bore into mine.

“I really like you, Y/N.”

“I – I like you too Harry.” I have to tell him; I have to tell him the girl he thinks he knows is not who she says she is. I have to tell him; this was all part of my job. But this isn’t. It’s not your job to be here with him right now.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” The proposition tore me from my thoughts. I got up and headed for the door, gesturing for him to follow me down the hall.

I plopped on the couch flipping the TV on. Harry sat next to me and flung his arm to the back of the couch behind me.

“Should we just search romantic comedies on Netflix and see what we find?” He looked over to me, nodding excitedly.

We flipped through Netflix for 10 minutes before finally deciding on 27 Dresses. The movie was the only thing that could be heard in the living room. At whatever point, Harry let his arm fall onto my shoulders and pulled me into him. I let my head rest on his shoulder as we continued watching.

“Hey Y/N?” I looked up at him, humming in response. “I’m sober now.” I scrunched my eyebrows and opened my mouth to speak, “Can I kiss you now?” My heart sped up, and my cheeks warmed with the blood rushing to them.

“I - I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” I let my head dip so I wasn’t looking at him.

“Why’s that?” He asked, confusion taking over his tone. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, but... I would really like to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I do. It’s just  - “ I thought of all the things that could possibly go wrong - the FBI busting into my apartment to have me arrested, me starting what feels like a real relationship based on lies, breaking his heart after he let me in.

“Then let me,” Harry cupped my cheek and brought our gazes together. I stared at him for a moment before lightly nodding.

His lips ghosted over mine before gently pressing together. I swear I could hear his heartbeat. Or maybe it was mine. I rested my hand on his cheek and his hand moved to my waist, pulling me as close as possible. It wasn’t heavy, and it wasn’t quick. It was soft and sweet, like him.

He pulled away and leaned back into the couch. A smile graced his face. I nuzzled back into him and pulled my feet up on the couch.

I woke up to the room completely dark, the only light coming from the dim light above the oven. I was still laying on Harry. I sat up, removing his arms from my waist. I grabbed my phone from the table to check the time. 2:36am. Oh shit, I turned back to wake Harry.

“Harry, Harry wake up. You have to go.” I shook him out of his sleep.

“What why?” He stirred, rubbing his eyes, barely coming out of his sleep.

“It’s 2:36AM.”

“Mmmmm comfy.” He closed his eyes again and rested further into the couch.

“Harry, no. You’re gonna get into trouble.” I stood up and grabbed his hands trying to pull him off the couch.

“No, I won’t”

“Harry,” I insisted. When he wouldn’t budge, I gave up. Flopping back into the couch.

“Can I just stay – you won’t even know I was here.”

//

I woke up in my bed. I looked at my clock next to me. 9:22am. Was it a dream? I sat up, same tank top. Same jeans. I searched for my phone to find it under my pillow with a sticky note.

Left around 5. Carried you to bed and didn’t want to wake you. Call me. – Harry

Sticking my phone in my back pocket, I pulled myself out of bed and let my feet guide me to the bathroom. What did I do? Why did I have to do that?

After staring at myself for almost two minutes, I decided to call Harry.

“Hello?” his voice was chipper.

“How’d you get home?” I asked, putting the call on speaker so I could wash my face.

“I took an Uber. I woke up to one missed call and one text from Niall asking if I was in my room from around 2. I figured it’d be best if I was back in the house before sunrise and not let anyone get suspicious.” At least he was thoughtful of other peoples’ sleep schedules.

“Ah, alright.”

“Yeah.”

“So, you wanted me to call you?” I stated, remembering his note.

“Oh, yeah! I’m picking you up for breakfast.” He said, I could feel his smile through the phone. Man does this boy get right back on the love train; I swear.

“You? Or Niall?” I teased, breaking into a smile. I grabbed my washcloth and wet it to begin washing my face.

“Ha ha. Funny. No, me. Just you, me, and some delicious breakfast.” He clarified. Should I tell Thompson? Probably.

“Okay.”

“I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes.” We said goodbye and felt my heart beating faster. I quickly texted Thompson to let him know what was happening. I started the shower and dropped my clothes. Washing everything quickly, I felt my nerves beginning to settle in. Should I even have said yes? What if Thompson doesn’t want me to? Too late.

When I got out, I checked my phone for a response.

Thompson – 9:37am: Earpiece.

He really was a man of few words. Powerful words, but few. I quickly blew dry my hair and changed into some leggings and a ¾ sleeve blouse. Finishing putting on some light makeup, I heard a knock on the front door.

“Harry!” Ashlie exclaimed, “Good to see you again.”

I walked out to see Harry looking awkwardly at her. She was asking how everything was going for him, to which he politely smiled and said “Fine, Thanks.” His eyes lit up when they connected with mine.

“Hey, you.” He smiled, pulling me in for a hug

“Hi,” I greeted, returning his smile and accepting his arms around me.

“Ready?”

‘Let me just grab my purse,” I said, backing away down the hallway towards my room. I quickly grabbed the earpiece from my drawer and inserted it into my ear. I grabbed my purse from my desk and started heading back to our entryway. I paused in the doorway, glancing at my open drawer with my pistol sticking out. I slipped it into my purse before returning to Harry.  “Okay, let’s go.”

Ashlie moved to the kitchen to make herself some breakfast, taking peeks over her shoulder at Harry. She shot me a wink as Harry opened the front door to lead us out.

When we were settled in the car, Harry turned to me. “First things first, I wanted to say thank you to you. For last night. And I’m sorry if I was intruding.”

“You weren’t,” I reassured him, “You never are.” As I finished my sentence, I heard the static in my earpiece. Thompson’s on.

“Morning superstar. I don’t know what happened last night, but good job getting him back.” If only he knew.

Harry turned on the radio for our drive. As we drove further out of the city, he told me how he loved some of the neighborhoods we were driving by. Mostly because he had friends living there that he made when we were in high school because Mr. Styles would often bring him to D.C., and he would meet other congressmen’s children.

I laughed at his jokes, and when he sang. Frankly, he can’t sing. But he does a very nice job trying.

When we pulled up to the café, I noticed it was quite small. Niall hadn’t brought us here on our previous brunch meetings.

“Where are we?” I questioned.

“Oh, my dad used to take me here in high school. I don’t get to come too often anymore. Ya know, security and everything.”

Right.

Breakfast went exactly how I thought it would. Harry talked about his life, asked me about mine, and Thompson fed me lines that apparently “Niall had done ‘research’, and this is what Harry wants to hear.”

But this time, when I laughed with Harry, I felt more genuine. My feelings were too. I really liked him. He was kind, generous, thoughtful. Everything a good man acted like.

When he dropped me off, Harry walked me to my door. I didn’t hesitate to kiss his cheek. Harry grabbed my hands and squeezed them.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” He glanced at his feet, letting a grin bless his features with his dimples showing perfectly. I nodded, squeezing his hands back. He pulled me into him for a hug. I wrapped my arms around his waist, not wanting to let go.

“Bye, Harry.” I opened the door when he let go of me.

“Bye, Y/N.”

The next week felt like it flew by. I would see Harry after work, either for dinner, a drink, a movie, a walk, really anything he could think of to see me.

Thompson would be in my ear, encouraging me. Sometimes he wasn’t, those were my favorite nights with Harry. I could be myself without having to worry about if Thompson thought ‘Well that wasn’t the right thing to say.”

//

My phone ringing brought me out of my sleep. I looked at the caller ID and immediately answered.

“Hello?” I greeted, rubbing the sleep from my left eye.

“Can you come over?” Harry asked, his voice cracking near the end. I pulled the phone away from my ear. 1:11am. After a pause he added, “Please?” The desperation in his voice was almost tangible. A shiver ran down my spine just hearing his broken voice.

“Yeah, of course.” I threw my covers off of me and grabbed my nearest pair of jeans. I pulled  them on and picked up one of Harry’s long sleeve t-shirts and ripped it over my head. “I’ll be there in 15.”

“Thank you,” he sobbed. “I can let you in by the east garden.” I hung up my phone and hesitated to grab my keys. I should take an Uber. Guards would see my car parked near the White House. I opened the Uber app and ordered a car.

“Morning ma’am.” Said Andrew, the driver.

“Morning,” I grumbled, climbing in the backseat.

“How was your night?” he asked, smiling at me through the rearview mirror.

“Could be better,” I sighed, rubbing my fingers into my temples.

“Oh, I totally get it,” he started. Andrew talked almost the entire way about his night. When he dropped me on the corner a block away from the White House, he concluded his rant with “And that’s when I kicked him out. Well, I hope your night gets better! Life’s too short to have bad sex.” I gave him the best smile I could muster and got out of his car.

I walked up the street and crossed through an alley to get to the East garden. I saw a sliver of light coming from a shrub. The sliver of light grew bigger, giving away that it was actually a door. A disheveled Harry appeared in the light. As I got closer, I noticed his eyes were red and puffy. He’s been crying. When I was close enough, he instantly crashed his body into mine, holding me so tight I might combust.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” I asked, cuddling him closer. He let out a choked weep. “Come on, let’s go.” I said, pulling away. He grabbed my hand and led us through the tunnels.

When we got to the halls, Harry looked around every corner, checking for guards before sneaking us to his room. The door clicked shut and the only thing I could hear were his soft sniffles. I took in the room before me. It was large and decorated for a king. There were items scattered, a chair tipped over, and a lamp lay broken on the floor next to his bed.

He took a seat on the edge of his bed, lowering his head with his hands covering his face. I walked over and took a seat next to him. I placed my hand on his shoulder and took another look around.

“Harry,” I whispered. “What happened?”

“He’s so disappointed in me.” He mumbled, barely audible. His body shook with sobs, soft enough to go unnoticed by anyone passing by.

“Who? Your dad?”

“He said his approval rate has barely gone up, and when he asked the cabinet about it, they – they told him it was my fault.” My heart broke at his words.

“Harry, I’m so – “

“He doesn’t get it. No one does,” he ripped himself from my grasp and stood in front of me, facing the door. “I have him, his cabinet, members of the staff, media, friends, everyone constantly yelling at me. Just because I want to go out and be normal. Live a normal life.” He was facing me now, arms flailing around to get his point across. “And as soon as I get something right, it’s not good enough!”

“What do you mean?” I inquired. I stood up and placed my hands on his shoulders, leading him back to sit down. “Talk to me.”

“You,” he stated as if it was obvious. When I didn’t respond, he continued. “Ever since I met you, I’ve been trying to better myself. Not go out as much, get away from the crowd that only talked to me because they want something. I haven’t had any interest in doing that because – well. I want to be the best man I can. For you.”

I stood straight at his confession. I was left speechless. I took a deep breath before kneeling on the ground in front of him. I opened my mouth and closed it again, not knowing what to say.

“Harry, I – I’m proud of you for doing all of that.”

“Well I’m glad someone is,” he exclaimed. He threw himself back onto his bed and covered his face with his hands.

I got up and sat next to him, criss crossing my legs. I grabbed his hands from his face and held them.

“I’m sure your dad is proud of you too. He just doesn’t know how to say it.” I tried to assure him.

“Yeah because ‘if you would’ve kept the clean image like I told you to’ screams ‘I’m proud of you.” He groaned. He grasped my hands and brought them to his chest.

“Well, let’s think about this. Your dad is the President. He has a lot of people to answer to, and I’m sure he’s under a lot of stress.” I explained to him, rubbing circles on the backs of his hands

“I know, I know. But like, there’s a way to talk to your kids.”

“Yeah, and I’m not saying how he handled it was correct. I’m just saying, from his perspective, he’s probably not mad. Just frustrated. And I’m sure he’s proud of you for trying to better yourself.” I paused, glancing at the door. “Maybe you should just talk to him about how this experience has been for you. I know you haven’t and that might help him to better understand where you’re coming from.” I concluded.

“You’re right. I should probably try to talk to him in private.”

“Wanna hear a joke?” He nodded, cracking a small smile. “What did the drummer name his daughters? Anna one, anna two!” His giggle filled the quiet room, a chuckle left my own lips. He pulled me down, so my head was resting on his chest.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He tucked my hair behind my ear and caressed his hand down my cheek.

“I’ve been told,” I joked, returning the smile he gave me.

“No, I’m serious,” He looked at the ceiling before continuing, “You give really good advice that makes me think from another perspective, and you can make me laugh even when it feels like my world is crashing - not even two minutes ago.” He glanced back down at me. My eyes never leaving his face.

We stayed like this for a while. Talking about life, things we believed in, conspiracy theories, the best type of pasta (Tortellini was unanimously voted), everything.

Harry walked me back to the East Garden entrance around 3:00am.

“Are you sure you can’t stay the night? Niall can just drop you off in the morning.” He tried one last time.

“I’m sure, Harry.” I let out a quiet laugh. “But hey – maybe we should just keep this between us two? I don’t want to get any weird looks from m –“ I stopped myself before the words ‘my coworkers’ escaped my lips, “your guards.”

“Of course, don’t worry.” He kissed my forehead and watched as I waited for my Uber. Occasionally throwing out pick-up lines. My favorite being ‘Are you a time traveler? Because I can see you in my future’ I casually waved as the Uber pulled up.

“Y/N?” She asked. I nodded and opened the door. I took one last look towards the entrance, seeing just the crack of light, knowing Harry was watching through it.

//

The next few weeks continued like this. Harry sneaking out to my house, and me to his. Each time learning new secret passages that brings me to his wing, or his room. It got to be exciting, really. Seeing Harry without Thompson in my ear. I had somehow convinced him to keep Niall out of the loop of our late-night meetings. But, of course, going on public outings was a different story. Niall would be waiting in a blacked-out SUV, I had my earpiece in, and I had to give Harry lines fed from Thompson every other sentence.

Sitting in Thompson’s office was something I should be used to by now. However, ever since Harry and I began having our midnight rendezvous, I had been anxious every time Thompson was even so much as in the same building. Although Harry and I haven’t so much as kissed since that night in my apartment, every time I saw him, I could feel the sexual tension radiating off him like I was standing next to a bonfire. He was waiting for me to make the first move, which I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. It would put so much more confusion into this already sticky situation.

Harry has grown into my friend. Of course, there was romantic interest. But I couldn’t jeopardize my cover. To him, I was Y/N Y/L/N. Marketing director for Accent. Small town girl from Carolina. I went to college for Business. I have my mom and two younger brothers back home who encouraged me to follow my dreams and move to D.C. If he knew who I really was. We could never have a relationship. If he knew I was being paid to play his romantic interest, things would never be real for us.

“Miss. Y/L/N,” Thompson’s serious tone tore me from my thoughts, “We’re aware that things have gone swimmingly since Mr. Styles had picked you up for breakfast a couple weeks ago. But how are you?”

“Yes, sir,” I agreed. “I’m well. He seems to be just fine. Hasn’t been as much in the spotlight. And the press - ”

“Miss. Y/L/N,” His tone lightened a bit. Thompson clasped his hands on his desk and softened his eyes toward me. I locked eyes with him as he continued. “Y/N, how are you doing?” His question took me by surprise. Thompson is always business. Hard-core authoritarian and never cares about sick days, let alone mental health days. He didn’t care if you were vomiting on the curb, you better show up for duty.

“I – What?” I asked, bewildered. My jaw fell slack, and I prayed he couldn’t hear my thoughts.

“Y/N, I know this must be extremely hard on you. I know I asked a lot of you when I assigned you to this. I want to be sure you’re doing okay. You two spend a lot of time together and I know how charming he is. I’ve met him on several occasions.” He chuckled, pushing his chair back and coming to sit next to me.

I turned toward him and put on a poker face. “Mr. Thompson, I know the longevity of this mission, and I know what a great deal of stress this is putting on everyone involved as well.” I couldn’t help it, I let my face fall into one of agitation. “But when I’m with him, I can’t help but think of how real it is for him. How would he feel if he knew that my interest is just a hoax? That it’s part of my job description to play this part?”

Thompson moved out of his chair and moved to the windows that looked out into the office. He took his time shutting the blinds before he came to sit in front of me on his desk.

“Y/N,” He started, the unease in his voice was something new. “I know your concern for his emotions is genuine. It’s part of why I hired you. You fully invest in what you’re doing. And that’s a trait that’s hard to come by nowadays. But I also hired you because I know how tough you are. You don’t let people push you around. You’ve truly shown your character with this.”

He took a long glance out the window at the cars driving down the 695. Did he have children? I never asked. We weren’t supposed to ask our superiors about their personal lives. The office and field were strictly professional.

“The unfortunate part of our jobs, is the mere fact that everyone we interact with, is part of our job. Whether it’s a civilian on the street, or the Queen of England. We’re on guard the whole time. Take Niall for instance.” He finally brought his gaze back to mine. “Niall is the closest we have to getting inside Mr. Styles head. To understand his motives and how he may be putting a risk to himself. That’s where we come in.”

“I don’t under – “

“Like Niall, we have Joe. Joe is the head of security for President Styles. President Styles may not understand what we’re doing at the time. But always comes to thank us later.”

“Mr. Thompson,” I let the confusion slide onto my face. “With all due respect, I don’t understand how this relates.”

“What I’m saying Y/N, is that, even though it may not seem like it, we do have Mr. Styles’ best interest at heart. But to do that, we need to be on the inside as well.”

I left Thompson’s office feeling even more anxious than before I entered. The phone ringing in my pocket halted my movements. Harry was trying to FaceTime me. I took a sharp right and entered the nearest bathroom, locking the door behind me.

“Hey,” I greeted him through the screen. He was in a car, driving. His sunglasses were pulled onto his head, pushing his chocolate locks out of his face.

“Hi! Oh – I’m sorry. You’re at work, aren’t you?” He apologized.

“Oh – yeah,” I fibbed. I hated this. I wanted to scream how I didn’t work at Accent and haven’t the slightest clue what marketing strategies were. You’re in too deep at this point, slick.

“How about I come pick you up for lunch? I can say hi to Rich.” He excitedly proposed.

“I can’t today, I’m sorry. I – uh” Think Y/N, think. “I’m actually in a business meeting with a prospect. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. What’re you doing tonight?”  He didn’t even seem fazed. He had grown used to my typical 9-5 day. That was actually midnight to midnight and being on call over the weekends. I, technically, was always working.

“I think Ashlie was cooking some homemade eggplant Parmesan. What’s up?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come over tonight. Maybe watch a movie with some popcorn?” He gave a light smirk, before turning it into a full grin.

“I could be up for that. After dinner?”

“Do you want me to send a car to get you? Or would you like to sneak in as usual?” There was a hint of  annoyance laced in his voice. He seemed to be getting tired of sneaking around.

“I can get myself there,” I stifled a laugh, trying to lighten his mood. “East Garden?”

“Yeah, okay.” I felt bad, that I couldn’t just stroll up to the main doors of the white house. But what security didn’t know didn’t hurt us. Well, me.

I arrived at the East Garden at 8:58, Harry was waiting with the door slightly cracked, as he had continuously done throughout our little meetings.

“Hey, ninja,” He smirked.

“Ninja?” I giggled as he pulled me into a hug. He rested his head atop mine, arms around my waist.

“Yeah, I think it suits you.” He snickered.

“If only you knew,” I whispered. I pulled away, “Shall we?” He reached for my hand, interlocking our fingers. Something I had grown accustomed to.

We settled in his room, laying back on the pillows. He pulled me into his chest as The Notebook started.

“Hey Y/N?” He gingerly murmured into my hair. Feeling the day weigh on my eyelids, I offered a hum in response. “How much do you. Ya know, like me?”

My eyes flew open at the question. My heart shook my toes with how hard it was beating. “What do you mean?” Trying to keep my voice even, I tilted my head to look up at him.

“Like, we’ve been seeing each other for a bit now, so I was just wondering like.” He grabbed my left hand and gave it a squeeze, “What are we doing?”

“Harry I – “ I took a deep breath. You knew it was coming. Play stupid. “I don’t follow.”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

I sat up and turned to him, criss crossing my legs. “Harry, as much as I care about you,” The words were harder to get out than anticipated. “I really enjoy what we have going on. And, I mean, with your status. I’m nervous about it … blowing up. Does that make sense?” I shook my head at his disapproving eyes. My voice started to waver as I continued, “I’m sorry, I just. I know how nasty the media can be and…”

Harry bolted up, grabbing my face ready to wipe any tears that could fall. “Hey, I don’t want you to apologize. I just, I don’t know. I feel like you don’t want to be seen with me or something. Even around my own house…” his voice trailed as he looked down at his own legs.

I took the opportunity to grab his hands, rubbing circles into their backs. “Harry, I promise that I really care about you. I just, I’m not ready for something like that.”

“Okay, I understand.” His gaze peered back up to me. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you. I would just really love to show off the woman that has stolen my heart.” I stole his heart and felt mine drop. “Will you let me know when you are?” I could only nod. “Come on, let’s lay back down. I love this movie.”

I don’t know when Harry fell asleep. His soft snores filled the room long before the movie ended. I couldn’t move, but I had to get out of here. I had to tell Thompson I couldn’t do it anymore. I checked my phone for the time. 4:27. I have to go home. I carefully unhooked Harry’s hand from mine. I gathered my things from his desk before spotting a notepad. I glanced over at the sleeping boy. You at least owe him the courtesy to write him a note that you were leaving. He’s done the same before.

I scribbled a simple “Couldn’t sleep, call me tomorrow. - Y/N” On the paper before putting it next to him on the bed.

I cracked the door open as quietly as possible and stuck my head through the crack, looking for any potential sign of life. I slid my body through the door and shut it as lightly as possible. I ran my hands down my face and started down the hall.

“Y/N?” I froze as I was about to round the corner. I slowly turned around to find a confused Niall standing at the other end of the hall. He took several glances between me and Harry’s door. “What are you doing here?” His tone was cold.

“Niall, I – I didn’t think you’d be roaming the halls this early in the morning.” I tried to laugh it off while taking several strides towards him.

He stared at me dumbfounded. “Does Thompson know you’re here?” He took my blank expression as an answer. “So how long has this been going on?”

“Niall, it’s not what it seems.” I defended.

“No, you’re just sneaking over to the WHITE HOUSE in the middle of the night for no reason. Not to hook up with Harry?”

“Niall, it’s really not like that!” I raised my voice slightly.

“Then tell me what it’s like Y/N. You know this could jeopardize the mission!” Niall raised his voice higher than mine. Not seeming to care if other guards heard him.

“I’m being his friend, Niall!” I cried. ‘That’s all.”

“Being his friend?” He asked bemused. “I don’t think FRIENDS do what you’re doing, Y/N.” His voice lower this time.

“Niall, I’m just trying to do the best I can! There’s no precedent for stuff like this! He calls, I answer. If he asks me to be there for him, I am. Like three weeks ago when he had an all-out meltdown!” My hands swung from my sides, to cover my face.

“That’s my job Y/N, not yours. I’m the one he calls to handle situations like that.” He stated the obvious, raising his eyebrows. He spoke almost as if he was telling a three-year-old that they couldn’t jump off the monkey bars because they could get hurt.

“Yeah, Niall. I know it’s your job. But have you been doing it? Are you really his friend and have you been handling it?” I countered his argument. If Niall was the one to handle situations like that, then why did Harry call me instead?

“Y/N, I leave him alone when he gets like that. When he’s ready to talk, he does. I think I know him a little better than you.” Niall crossed his arms over his chest, his eyebrows furrowed, and his voice was ear-piercingly serious.

“Do you, Niall? Do you really? You may know about everything he’s going through professionally, but –“ I took a deep breath, composing myself so my voice was even. “Do you even know the real him? The sensitive Harry that talks about how hard this life is?” I paused taking in Niall’s cold expression

“How about the Harry that’s favorite color is yellow, or that he loves rom coms because they always end happily? Or what about the Harry that’s just trying to cope because this isn’t the lifestyle he planned or hoped for? Do you even know him Niall?” My voice crippled as I finished my rant.

Niall doesn’t know him. Niall knows what he needs to know so he can report to Thompson at the end of the week. Trouble he got into, bars he went to, where the paparazzi who photographed his every move worked so they can get the pictures back from his blacked-out adventures.

“Miss. Y/L/N,” Niall’s voice was too evenly keeled. “At least I know my place, when it comes to my job. Unlike you, who has no issues crossing clear boundaries. I will be pleased to inform Mr. Thompson of your little rendezvous with Mr. Styles this evening.” He turned his back before flicking his face over his shoulder, “And I’m sure we can find out about all the others as well.”

“What?” Niall froze in his tracks; I was too afraid to turn around. “What’s going on?”

I turned to find a red-faced Harry standing in the doorway to his bedroom.

“Harry,” our voices came in unison.

“You – Niall. Mr. Thompson?” The confusion took its rightful place on his face. “This,” Harry glanced at his sock clad feet. “This was a set up?” I couldn’t find the words to defend myself. “How did you – when were you – “ The unfinished questions never left his lips.

“Harry, I can explain.” My voice was thick. It almost hurt to get the words out. If I didn’t vomit when explaining to him why I like the privacy, it was sure about to come up now.

“You both… you both…” another unfinished question. He shut his door behind him and started walking in the opposite direction of both Niall and me. I gave a desperate glance to Niall, who quickly motioned for me to follow him.

“Go, you should talk to him.” His voice was soft. We both knew this wasn’t how it was supposed to play out. “Better you than me right now.”

I jogged to catch up to Harry. “Harry wait,” I called reaching out for his hand. He quickly swiped it from my grip and quickened his pace. “Harry, please let me explain!” I cried.

“Explain what?” He growled, stopping in his tracks. I stopped just before I crashed into him and took a step back. “Explain how you can go about your day just - just lying to me? About everything? Making me feel these things for you?” His voice was exceptionally hard, barely able to detect the hurt laced through.

“Harry, I’m sorry,” I whispered. ”I – “

“Sorry for what.” He barked, whipping around to face me. “Sorry for making me trust you, or sorry for getting caught in your big scheme.” His words rifled through me like he took an AR-15 to my heart. You should’ve known this could be the outcome. “Whatever you’re sorry for, I don’t want to hear it. See yourself out, I’m done.”

His shoulder bumped me as he walked past. I turned to watch him go back down the hall and around the corner back to his room. I remained motionless when I heard his door slam shut. I felt the wetness of a single tear rolling down my cheek and quickly raised my hand to wipe it away.

How could you have been so stupid, Y/N?

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

Hmmm how bout Harry and a new singer!reader. He tweets lyrics to her single or has it playing in his insta story and they end up having like an almost social media only friendship for a long time, just going back and forth commenting under photos and tweets and gassing each other up then they finally meet in person and they’re both a little shy?

Tweets

Warning: fluff | author note: for reference lets make up a fake song called remember that night | masterlist | enjoy!

When your single came out your didn't expect it to get Harry attention. You only had a few fans and you thought it was just going to be them commenting on it. But that wasn't the case.

Harry has been a fan of you in behind closed doors for a while now. He loved your voice and couldn't stop listening to your music.

So when your song dropped harry tweeted.

I love this song by y/n! Her voice is very beautiful and I can't stop listening to it. Good job darling

When you saw the tweet you lost it. Harry freaking styles liked your song and even prompted it. You were quick to retweet it thanking him.

After that tweet from Harry your song got millions of views from his fans. You were so grateful for what harry has done. You felt like you needed to think him personally but you couldn't so instead you sent him a dm via Instagram.

I just want to thank you for your comment about my song. I never thought in a million years you out of all people would know who I am but I'm really grateful.

Harry noticed the message quickly and smiled when he saw it.

It was my pleasure. I meant it when I said your voice was beautiful. It was like I was listening to an angel.

Harry sent the message and you got it a minute later. You smiled as you read it. Your heart was skipping beats; it just made you so happy to be talking to him.

-

After you and harry DM each other you both became friends really quickly. Every time either you or him posted a picture or a song, the other one commented on it. Sometimes it was something so simple but it meant a lot to the other.

After a few months of doing that, harry was dying to meet you. He grew up the courage to text you to see if you wanted to meet him. As he waited for you to respond his heart grew faster and his mind grew wilder with his thoughts.

He was thinking you didn't want to meet him or Maybe he spoke to soon. But minutes later you responded saying yes. Harry smiled at your text and breathed a sigh of relief.

You and harry agreed to meet a few weeks later when he was in your hometown. You sat up and a nice dinner at your house and waited for him to arrive.

Around 5 there was a knock on your door. You happily got up, opened the door to see harry. He was dressed amazingly (obviously) and he had a huge smile on his face showing off his dimples.

"hi." You said. Harry smiled back at you. "Can I get a hug?"you nodded before you wrapped your arms around him. Harry was warm like a teddy bears as you hugged him.

Eventually you had to pull away from him. You invited him in and you both sat down to eat. It was a little awkward because you both were acting a little shy, but you both enjoyed each other's company the rest of the night.

A little later that day it was time for harry to live. It made you a little sad and he noticed as he was leaving. "Why you so sad?" Harry asked as he stopped.

You smiled softly, "oh it's nothing. I just was really enjoying you here." You said almost at a whisper. "Well if you want me to stay I can sleep on the couch or something. Like a sleepover"

You looked up at harry seeing that he was very much serious. "Well okay then." You perked right up and that made Harry laugh. "Okay I'll go get my bags. Don't tell any secrets without me." Harry winked before he rushed back to his car to get his stuff. You chuckled before you shook your head. You hated him for making you fall in love with him.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

Okay I'm done. Hope everyone enjoyed

[shawn-mendes-post]

Late Late with Harry Styles

A/N: Hello! I have been inactive for a while. I think I am going to split this into two parts depending on what I want to write. Hope you like this chapter. I used Olivia Rodrigo’s deja vu lyrics in this chapter. I am almost at the end of the first album, which means the Shawn Mendes chapter is coming to a close for a while. I think it is time for her to focus on the relationship with Sebastian and the trauma with Tristan. 

Hello again! It has been a while, and I hope you missed me. I know I missed every one of my readers.

So much has happened that I need to catch everyone up. In October, (Y/n) comes out with her new boyfriend, Sebastian Stan. There has been controversy due to their age difference, but who cares? I mean, if in her position, I would date him too. He is hot for his age and acted in Marvel movies. He has amazing eyes and hair that I want to know if soft.

No Shawn. And I mean at all. When asked, he did not comment and moved on to the next question. Harsh. Is there trouble in paradise between the two friends? If so, when did this start? I have a theory but must wait till next time; loves.

Then in November, Shawn Mendes and girlfriend Camila Cabello sang Senorita at the AMA's, where (Y/n) would perform as well. During the couple's performance, the camera was on (Y/n) face, which seemed a little grim. It is a good thing her man was next to her, dancing along to the beat. I wish I had someone.

She would perform, and Shawn was under the magnifying glass next. A lot is written across his face, and we can't wait to dig deeper into next time. (Y/n)'s performance consists of her songs that were already released and added her new single, Starving. Wonder who the muse is?

(Y/n) has a lot of projects coming up that will lead to her being busy. What to expect? She will appear in a Netflix original series, The Umbrella Academy, season two; not much is known about her character. She is also resuming her role in Stranger Things. However, we do know she is not in this season of American Horror Story. Hopefully, next season if she has the time. Also, she was in The Devil All the Time. Starring with Tom Holand, Robert Patterson, and current boo, Sebastian Stan (rumor where they met). She also hinted at a full album realize in the coming days.

I am excited and can not wait! I hope the album comes out before Christmas. There are rumors the album will be about Sebastian, while there are rumors it is about her dearest friend, Shawn Mendes. Wonder what Shawn will think about the album. Get it? Oh, well, Shawn Mendes is also dropping his album soon called Wonder. So much is happening in December, and I am ready for it. I do have questions on what (Y/N) will do for Christmas? She has not been close to her family or Shawn. Will this be the first Christmas for Sebastian and (Y/N) to celebrate as a couple?

Time will tell. XOXO Dawnn S.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was December now. Shawn was becoming more intimate with Camila and becoming open about the relationship. He seemed happy. Was he? A part of him was okay, but there was a part of him sad. He still hasn't contacted his best friend (Y/N). He never went five days without any contact, and this is something new that he did not like. He always told her everything because of their strong bond, but he ruined things.

She has been busy writing and producing new music. Shawn knew because he would get recommendations to watch new videos of her songs on YouTube. Shawn wanted to deny that he did not listen to every song, trying to decode any messages. He would deny that he spent countless sleepless nights watching her videos, trying to see if she was affected by their loss as he felt. She also was a part of numerous movies and TV shows that haunted Shawn. He would make sure to go to the theaters alone, without being seen to get a glimpse of her.

Shawn forgot how busy she likes to keep herself. She would starve herself due to not having time, but he would always bring her food. Shawn would take her out for her to have fun and relax. Shawn could see how much she was working due to the various works and the album she is about to release. Her mind was always thinking whether an idea for a song or a Christmas gift for someone. Shawn fiddles with his phone, debating on if he should call her.

"Hello?" Her voice said, having a calming effect on Shawn. He felt this made him stronger to speak up. He realizes he wanted to reach out before he lost the courage.

"(Nickname)?" He asked, hesitantly, thinking she would hang upon him. He silently prayed she would talk to him and not hang up.

"Shawny, good to hear from you. " She admitted, glancing at her boyfriend, smiling brightly at him. Sebastian shoots her a look, curious about the fact she answered. Sebastian smirks, moving closer to her, placing a hand on her knee.

"How have you been?" He asked, really enjoying hearing her voice. He missed smelling the scent of pumpkin spice and cinnamon when he hugged her.

" I've been well...you?" (Y/N) asked, raising an eyebrow at her boyfriend, knowing he is up to something. She is trying to pay attention to the phone call, trying to hide how much she missed hearing Shawn's voice.  

" G-good," he stuttered out, blushing at how lame he must have sounded. Shawn felt like an idiot. He should be apologizing to her, but all he could say is," I miss you," breathless, waiting for her response.

Silence.

He started to panic, thinking he made a mistake in telling her. He starts to run a hand through his hair. Shawn bites his lower lip nervously as his eyes shift around the room. Silently,  he was glad that he was alone and did not have to worry about being embarrassed in front of his friends.

" I miss you too, Shawny," she finally replied, hating how weak she gave in to her feelings. Her boyfriend moves his hand higher up her thigh, fingers moving closer to her panties. She closes her eyes, knowing she should stop Sebastian, but loved how crazy he makes her; yearning for him to touch her, she spreads her legs. She silently thanked that she picked a skirt to wear as she bites back a moan when he teases her with his finger.

There is so much she has to tell Shawn. Tell him how much she loves him. How much he broke her heart when she found out he was dating Camila Cabello. However, nothing comes out as she lets out a soft gasp, watching Sebastian getting on his knees, pulling down her panties. She could only watch the smirk on his face as he lifts her skirt, seeing how wet she became from his touch.

" I would like that very much," Shawn replied happily, not having a clue about what is happening on the other side. Shawn felt like he was on his way to get his best friend back. Shawn couldn't believe how simple it was for him to talk to her. Yeah, he still had feelings for her, but that didn't matter. He was with Camila, and that is who he loves.

(Y/N)'s eyes shut as she tilts her head back, enjoying the sensation of Sebastian's tongue not being able to hide her moans anymore; she says a rush goodbye to Shawn, a promise to call him another time before hanging up. Quickly, she pushes Sebastian off her, grabbing his arm and leading him to the bedroom.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) lets out a snicker, reading the text messages between Sebastian and her. He loved to tease her about her crush on Harry Styles and the fact she told him if she had the chance, she would get with Harry. Sebastian was surprised to find out he was not her celeb crush, but he did become close. She did not count Shawn as a celeb crush because he liked him before he got famous. She thought he was the one for her, and they would get married when they were 20. However, things did not turn out as planned, and she is `moving on. Currently, she is in the blue room, watching from the screen as it plays the show.

"Hi, mate. I am just by your place, and I was wondering if you could help me get to work," Harry says on the phone, "great, thanks." Hanging up the phone, James appears, smiling and saying, "hey."

Harry starts to drive as the two converse with each other. "How are you feeling about hosting?"

"It will be fine," Harry said, smiling as he nods his head. He then asks for advice, listening to every single word James says, finding it amusing. After faking laughing practice and clothing advice, Harry turns on the radio. Watermelon Sugar comes on, they both begin to sing to the song, jamming out as drive.

Harry's phone begins to ring, which makes them stop for a moment. Harry picks up the phone, "ello?" James shoots a confused look at Harry, wondering who is on the phone. "Yeah, I am close near you. I would not mind, yes. No worries, love," Harry said before hanging up. He turns to James, "I need to make a quick stop."

The next thing James can see is (Y/N) outside, with multiple shopping bags, smiling apologetically. "No way!" James exclaimed, not having to know the two had this planned for the segment. The two men get out of the car, grabbing some of the bags and placing them in the trunk.

"Sorry about this. I was Christmas shopping, but my car broke down. I did not need my manager to know I left the studio to shop. I also knew Harry was going to the studio soon, and it was fate that he was close."

The three make their way into the car as the car drives off towards the studio. "I thought you were busy?" James said in a questioning tone, not understanding what is going on.

" I was, but I knew I just had to appear. I just made sure to finish getting everything ready for the album to drop in a couple of days."

Harry looks in the review mirror, meeting (Y/N)'s eyes, "should we listen to music?" Laughing, (Y/N) nods her head, watching Harry turns on the radio once again, the sound of Starving. The three sing-alongs, jamming to the song before there is a new song that comes on. James and Harry stay silent, not knowing the words to the song. (Y/N) smiles, hearing her newest song that dropped out a few hours ago.

Car rides to Malibu Strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two And trading jackets Laughing 'bout how small it looks on you (Ah-ha-ha-ha) Watching reruns of Glee Bein’ annoying, singing in harmony I bet she's braggin' to all her friends, saying you’re so unique (Hm)

(Y/n) sings, stoping to let the pre-chorus play, feeling proud she is almost done with her album. She can move on to the next chapter of her life soon and begin to forget about Shawn.

So when you gonna tell her that we did that too? She thinks it's special, but it's all re-used That was our place, I found it first I made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you

(Y/N) resumes singing, feeling she is giving a major hint on who the album is about. She initially did not want to drop the song because of the hints of heartbreak and the concept of him moving on. There are already people trying to connect each song to her friendship with Shawn.

Do you get déjà vu when she's with you? Do you get déjà vu, hmm? (Ha) Do you get déjà vu, huh?

Do you call her, almost say my name? 'Cause let's be honest, we kinda do sound the same Another actress I hate to think that I was just your type And I bet that she knows Billy Joel 'Cause you played her "Uptown Girl" You’re singing it together Now I bet you even tell her how you love her In between the chorus and the verse

(Y/N) stops, as she only wanted to perform a snippet of the new song. James raises his hands, not believing what happened. "Is that a new song of yours?" He asked, turning to look at (Y/N), not stopping from smiling. (Y/N) nods, a flush on her cheeks as she ducks down a little. "Yes, I want people to hear more of my new songs. My album is dropping tomorrow, and it seems like a good time. I need to move on with my life, and releasing my music is the change I need." The next thing the three know is that they arrived at the studio.

(Need to let me know if you want to be tagged.)

@hxneybee-uwu

@shawn-youth

@sspidermanss

@turtoix​

@unpredictabledinosaur

[qjhughes]

All The Things I Didn’t Say

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: Exactly 3,443

Summary: You and Harry get into a fight and the things he never told you tear him up inside.

A/N: This is my first ever Harry fic, I hope you enjoy it! (Sorry if it sucks I tried) ~also thank you @fancyxholland for beta reading this, I cannot thank you enough love:)~

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*

It had been weeks since you last talked. You had been doing everything in your power to avoid the green eyed devil, scared that one simple glance in your direction could make you fall for him all over again. And that wasn’t something that you were ready for. You weren’t able to willingly put yourself in that position again.

You weren’t going to allow him to demolish your heart like he did the last time you saw him. You were still broken from then, and you really don’t know if you could handle another heartbreak, especially not this soon.

You hadn’t slept right since you split, not being used to his side of the bed being cold all the time. You washed the sheets and everything that smelled like him almost instantly after he left the house. You couldn’t bear to smell him all the time. You knew that keeping the scent of him lingering in your house would make you latch onto him even more than you already were.

You hadn’t eaten a proper meal in what feels like forever, your body barely having enough energy to get you to the bathroom. 

It was safe to say that Harry left you broken. But can you really blame it all on him? Was it really justified of you to do so?

Maybe. He was the one that went off on you, yelled and screamed and hit every place he knew would tear you apart.

But maybe not. Maybe it was your fault. You hadn’t paid attention to him, not noticing that he was clearly hurting. You tried to push him into going out when he oh so clearly didn’t want to.

There was also the fact that you kicked him out, told him to get out of your face and to not come back, without even letting him explain himself. 

You found yourself in front of the tv most days, not really paying attention to whatever was playing, just needing the background noise now that you didn’t have Harry to hum to you or to strum his guitar while working on new material. 

Every single time you found yourself there, you let your mind wander. Let yourself believe that maybe he was missing you as much as you were missing him. That maybe he was thinking about you.

You were aware of the fact that wasn’t healthy, that the last thing you  should be doing while trying to get over him was to let him run rampant in your mind, but you couldn’t help it.

He was your everything. He had been since the moment that you met him, his green eyes seemingly brightening every dark corner of your life. He made you feel like you could breathe fresh air for the first time ever. It was like you had always been breathing the same, a little labored but unnoticed because that’s how it always was, but then he came into your life and showed you everything that you had been missing.

It was worse now than it was before. This time, you knew what you were missing. The laboring breaths from before meeting him were coming back, but this time that’s all you could focus on. You were so used to feeling complete that it physically hurt to not be around him. To not have him to keep you company. To not be able to kiss his lips or hold him close. 

Your life felt incomplete, so yeah, at times, you let your mind wander to the times when it felt like you weren’t going to fall apart from the slightest breeze.

*

God, he missed you. He pasted on a smile and acted like nothing was wrong around everyone, posing for the media, but the second he got home, everything was different. 

Usually, he would either do his own hair - him being a fully capable adult and all - or you would do it for him, letting him enjoy the feeling of your fingers raking through his locks.

But now, the way his curls were done was a completely different story. He either had his hair stylist come over before he went out anywhere, or - more often that not - he went around looking disheveled.

Even though he had tried his best to hide it, those closest to him saw. Mitch caught the dark bags under his eyes. Sarah quickly caught onto the fact that when he was crying during rehearsals, it was because all of his songs were about you.

You had been his muse.

You were the inspiration behind everything that he did, and he no longer felt like he could function. You had been gone for all of a few weeks and he was falling apart, unable to pull himself back together.

The songs had stopped being written, the interviews had stopped being scheduled, his whole entire life came to a screeching halt. All because he no longer had you. 

Not that he could blame you. You had every right to make him leave, to look at him and tell him to never think about you again. He was the one who took out all his anger at you, the one person he didn’t want to lose his cool to. 

He had tried, he had done nothing but try for the entire time that you had been apart to do exactly what you had asked. To forget about you, to not think about you in the slightest.

He really did. But things didn’t work out that way. Every time that he had tried to write a song, he had ended up writing you a letter. There weren’t many, seeing as he had soon realized that they were going nowhere. 

He knew that you didn’t want to talk to him, that you didn’t want to hear a word that came from him. If you really wanted him back, you would make the first move, that’s how you are, how you always have been. 

So he wrote them and laid them on his desk, allowing them to haunt him every moment he was in their general vicinity.

*

All you wanted was to hear from him. It had been weeks, if he really wanted you back he would have reached out, Harry wasn’t the guy that just sat back and waited for things to come to him. He knew what he wanted and he went after those things with his eye on the prize, never stopping until he made his goal.

Which means that his goal wasn’t to get you back. Maybe he just really didn’t want you. 

You couldn’t blame him for it, you had been distant and ignoring all his signs probably weeks before the fight. You made him think that you didn’t care and he was completely justified in wanting something else, something better, with someone that actually deserved him.

You knew him, however, he was going to make sure that you had moved on before he did, wouldn’t want to date someone else while you’re still heartbroken. The only problem with that is that you don’t know if you’ll ever be okay without him. Not a single part of you can see yourself moving on.

So you do what you do every time something goes wrong. You fake the happiness. You fake the fact that you’re okay. You plaster on a smile and hope that it’s believable enough to make people stop worrying.

A part of you knows that this won’t be enough this time, though, so you go the extra step. You block his number. If he tries to text, it won’t go through. That’s the only way that he can get ahold of you. He never used Instagram, knowing his messages to you could easily get lost in the thousands he gets from fans every single day.

It takes you a pretty long time, and a whole lot of willpower, but after you do block his only means of contact, it feels as if there’s a weight lifted off of your shoulders. It’s a lot easier to pretend to be happy if the thing that’s making you upset isn’t looming over your head.

Everything had been foggy since you made Harry leave, but this made at least one thing clear. You were going to be alright, at least a little more than you had been for the past few weeks. You may have to fake it for a little while, but the first step to feeling better had already been taken.

*

He was not going to be alright. His friends kept telling him that he would be, that she was just another girl in a sea of millions more. But that wasn’t true. They all knew it wasn’t true. They just wanted the old Harry back. They wanted their friend back.

The guy that used to go out every weekend with his friends and celebrate, if nothing else, surviving another week, was gone. Left behind was the shell of a man that was broken into a million pieces and being held together by the scotch tape that he called his fake smile.

He had gone out with his friends tonight, though. He had wanted them to have some fun and knew that they felt bad for doing so if he couldn’t have fun too. 

He had filled himself with alcohol, taking shot after shot until your face was blurry in his mind. He had poured liquid courage into glass after glass until he found himself composing text messages to you and sending them. The only things left in his mind were what you would say and him hoping that his autocorrect was working well tonight.

I miss you, shouldn’t have blown up. I also should’ve contacted you earlier, was stupid not to God I love you so much, I can’t sleep without you, feels wrong laying in bed without you curled up next to me

He took another look at his phone, fighting to get through the blurr to see if you had received them. And to his horror, they weren’t going through. You had blocked him. 

So he had his next drunken idea, he was going to send the letters. Actually, no, he was going to take you the letters. 

But there was still one more that he needed to write.

*

You weren’t a good actor. You really tried, but your forced smile didn’t go unnoticed by your friends. They knew you, probably better than you know yourself, so when they look at you and give you smiles of pity and try to get you a new guy to hookup with, you know that you’re not doing well at convincing them in the slightest.

You can’t even bring yourself to contradict them. They’re right. You miss Harry. You miss his hugs and the way that his scent would cling to anything that he touched, even for a second. You missed the way his seafoam green irises would stare into your eyes as if you were the only person in the world. He would listen to you as if your words were more important than anything that he had ever heard.

Why didn’t you do the same?

Why didn’t you pay attention?

Why didn’t you see that he was hurting?

Or did you? Did you see it and just chose to ignore it, too caught up in your perfect little world?

At this point, you couldn’t say, the only thing that you know is you want Harry back. You can’t breathe without him. You’re no better now than you were when you made him leave.

You just wanted him to come back to you.

*

Y/N,

Hello, Um, I’ve never written a love letter to anyone but you, and this is the first one I’m writing with the intent of giving it to you, so I apologize if this sounds crazy.

I miss you. So fucking much. I never knew that someone could miss another person this much. I miss you when I’m trying to sleep and you’re not there to cuddle up with me. I miss you when I’m cooking and you’re not there to sit on the counter and taste test for me. I miss you when I’m getting ready in the mornings, wishing that your fingers were working their way through my crazy hair and not my own.

But most of all, I miss driving with you. I miss having you in my passenger seat. I miss having you there to pick the music and keep everything light and airy. I miss holding your hand and drawing random patterns on your knuckles. I miss the way you would study each of the tattoos that you could see every single time that we would get into the car. You would look over them, trace each little line like it was the first time you had ever seen them.

You make me feel like art, even when I don’t feel so hot. You make me see the best in life.

I’m so fucking sorry Y/N. I shouldn’t have blown up at you. I should have sat down and talked to you like good boyfriends do. I should have just stopped getting in my own head and opened up to you.

We’d never fought like that. Sure, we’d argue over the miniscule things, but we never let it get this bad. I shouldn’t have let it get that bad. I should have manned up and told you why I was being distant towards you.

I never meant to hurt you. I really didn’t. But I know that I did break your heart. I could see it in the way you looked at me.

I’m not asking that you take me back, that would be pretty narcissistic of me, thinking that if I ask, you’ll just welcome me back with open arms.

I don’t expect that of you. I broke your heart. I know that.

All I’m asking is that you give me the chance, at some point, to let me put it back together.

(Hopefully) Yours,

H

He sealed the envelope and worked up the courage to drive to your house. He didn’t even know if you’d be there. Or if you were, if you’d be there alone. You could have easily moved on from him. It wouldn’t have been hard for you. Any guy would be blessed to have you in their life. 

He just hoped that you had been missing him even a fraction of how much he missed you.

Before he could overthink it too much, he grabbed the envelopes, sought out his keys, and made his way to the house you used to share.

On the drive there, he left the radio off, not being able to concentrate on anything else besides the worry that you hated him.

You couldn’t hate him. Could you?

Harry couldn’t remember the drive to your house being so long. How did he have this much time to doubt everything?

He was not like this. He never doubted himself. He always had faith in himself. He knew that people liked him, and he took a certain amount of pride in that. 

But he was none of those things around you. He was anxious. He wanted you to come back to him. He was hoping that maybe, just maybe, you would give him a second chance. 

It’s going to be fine. She’ll read the letters and you’ll at least get to see her face one more time, Harry says continuously to himself as he walks up to your door and rings the bell.

*

You hadn’t invited anybody over. You don’t know who could possibly be at your door. Unless it was those girl scouts coming back to sell their cookies. Little do they know that you don’t even like them. Harry’s the one with the love for them. He’s the one that buys every box that they have on them every time.

You groan and pull yourself out of bed, trudging to the door to break the news to the girls. You expect a few hurt faces that’ll guilt you into buying a few boxes and giving them away.

What you don’t expect is to find the curly haired man when you open the door.

You open your mouth to speak, but he stops you, “Look, I know. You don’t want to see me. I just- I need to give you these. I-I’ve been trying to leave you be but,” he reached his free hand up to run through his unruly curls, “I can’t stop thinking about you. And I know, I messed up, I don’t deserve to even be here right now.” He pauses for a moment to take a deep breath and you try to speak again but he’s faster. “I don’t expect anything, I just ask that you read these letters. It’s all the things I didn’t say. I know that doesn’t make up for it, I just want you to read them. Please.”

“H…” you breathe, trying to find the right words.

“Anyway, yeah. Um, here.” he hands you the letters and turns around, “I’m going to give you time to read them. If you wanna talk, you have my number. If not, I get it.”

You watch him walk for a moment, wondering if what you’re about to do is a good idea. But honestly, you don’t care. You miss him way too much to let him walk away again.

“H, wait!” he stops but doesn’t turn around. “Come back, please. I miss you. I just- I’m sorry.” He turns around and slowly makes his way towards you, as if moving with caution.

“Really? Are you going to read the letters still?” He looks nervous, waiting for you to confirm or deny whether you’re playing with his heart.

“I’m still going to read the letters, I just want you here with me.” 

*

He can feel himself relax, his mind slowing down the marathon it had been running since he began his journey to your house. 

You were going to read the letters. You missed him. Maybe you would give him a chance.

He hoped so. God, he hoped so. He wanted you back so bad that he would do literally anything in the world to have you back in his arms.

He would spend his entire life making it up to you, whether you were his or not.

*

You open the first letter and begin to read.

Y/N,

So I know we’re not talking, but everyone says maybe this will help me. My therapist says maybe this can make it easier for me to sleep. So here I go.

I’m such an idiot, I messed up the best thing in my life. I see you in everything that I do and everywhere that I go. I’m trying to give you your space. Trying to let you have whatever you want. I’m trying so hard darling. But it’s so hard.

I’m not used to sleeping in a bed without you in it. I’m not used to not having you to curl around and the scent of your shampoo to breathe in. 

I can’t leave the house without thinking that you should be coming with me. I can’t drive without wishing that you were in my passenger seat.

I can’t do this without you. I don’t know how I ever lived without you before, and I definitely don’t know how I’m going to do so now.

I guess I’m going to try to sleep now.

Yours

Harry

You look up at him with tears in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? You haven’t done anything wrong?” He questions.

“You haven’t been able to sleep.” You crawl from your place on the couch over to him, looking at him for consent before cuddling into his side.

“It’s alright, darling. I deserved it.” He squeezes you closer to his body and you can feel every muscle in your body relax. “You still have more letters to read.” He whispers.

“Can I read them tomorrow? Missed you too much to be reading anything when I could be looking at your face.” You mumble, causing him to chuckle and look down at you.

“We can do whatever you want, darling.” He says, granting you a small smile.

“Good, because I wanna cuddle in our bed and actually get a good night's sleep.” You yawn, sleep already coming easier to you now that he was back.

“That sounds good to me, love. Come on, let’s go to bed.” He picks you up, carrying you to your room. And that’s when it hits you.

You have Harry back.

Permanent Taglist: @spideygirl2003, @jackiehollanderr, @scarletsoldierrr, @thewayilookatbacon,  @lost-in-the-stars03, @kisses-holland, @josiemara, @god-knows-what-am-i-doing, @fanficscuziranout, @babebenhardy @write-from-the-heart @slytherinambitious,  @parker-barnes-af, @akila-stilinski

Harry Styles Taglist: (empty as of right now)

[only-kiwi]

lose you to love me - part 7

i wrote this in like two days so i’m sorry if it’s shit. i got this idea from the song ‘little do you know’ by alex & sierra. i’m actually pretty sure harry wrote that one. i might use the songs as inspiration for the next few chapters. love u.

part one

part two

part three

part four

part five

part six

*

tobi kept her promise. she called harry the next day. it took her a while to build up the courage but she just didn’t know what to say to him. she still didn’t. it was still hard for her to process everything he said and the fact that he said it over text was worse. she needed to hear his voice.

“hey, t.” harry said through the phone. “how are you?”

“i’m okay. i just think that we should talk.”

“isn’t that why you called me?”

“yeah, but i mean face to face. if you’re okay with that?” tobi didn’t want harry to feel uncomfortable, it must have taken a lot for him to say what he said so she just wanted to make sure he was fine.

“no, i think that’s better actually. i just didn’t know if you’d be comfortable.” harry agreed and tobi smiled. they were so alike. “do you want to come over?”

“yeah, i’ll be there in 20.”

***

tobi had been at harry’s for half an hour now and neither of them had spoken about what they were actually meant to. they kept distracting themselves. it started when harry offered tobi a cup of tea, and then her commenting on how he’d slightly changed some things in the house. there were new art pieces and books on the coffee table and a new chair in the living room and it was all very harry, she noticed.

they sat on the sofa, silence taking over them for a moment. it wasn’t awkward, they were both just trying to figure out what to say.

“so?” tobi prompted.

“well, first i just want to say i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you feel weird about it.”

“i don’t feel weird. just confused.” tobi seemed off, harry noticed. he could usually read her like a book but this time, he couldn’t tell.

“i know, and i’m sorry again. it was stupid of me to come out and say it like that. i just- i don’t know. i love you. i always have and i knew i always would in some way no matter what. i guess it was just out of sight, out of mind, you know? and it started coming back when we spent more time together just hanging out and writing songs. i really missed it. i missed you. us.” tobi nodded as he spoke, letting him finish. “i know i fucked up and i hurt you and i hate myself for that. and i would completely understand if you don’t want to go back there. i just wanted to make how i feel clear. all you ever wanted me to do was communicate and be honest with you, so that’s what i’m trying to do.”

tobi breathed in, looking down. harry was watching her closely to see if she was okay. he noticed tears in her eyes but they seemed like a mix of sad and frustrated tears. which was understandable. “okay.” she managed to say.

“okay? that’s it? what does that even mean?”

“i-i think i’m angry at you?” tobi said, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “i don’t want to be but i am and i’m sorry because i don’t want you to feel upset.”

“one thing i’m not gonna take from you is an apology. you don’t have to be sorry, okay? you can feel whatever you want because it’s valid no matter what. so be angry at me, i can handle it.”

the reason why tobi didn’t want to be angry with harry was because he was simply too kind. most people would be annoyed that they got rejected. but harry always had a way of making tobi feel safe and comfortable within her emotions.

“it’s just that... it took me so long to get over everything and i’m finally happy. i begged you not to leave and you didn’t care. then you moved on in two months and i had to watch that. it was really fucking hard. but now i don’t want to cry when people say your name or i see your face or hear your voice.” despite her words, tobi was crying now, but it felt good to get it all out. “and of course, i love you. i just don’t know if i can go back there right now because what if the same thing happens? what if you get so stressed that you push me away again? what if you change your mind? if i’m with you, h, it needs to be for real.”

“i’m really sorry.”

“i know you are. and i forgive you, because i know that’s not who you are. i wasn’t perfect, i know that. but you really fucking again. and even though i forgive you, it’s a lot harder to forget. i really can’t go through it all again, you know? so, i just need time.”

harry placed his hand on top of tobi’s. “i’ll wait, t. i don’t care how long it takes.”

“i can’t ask you to do that because that would be wrong and selfish. and i don’t know how long it’s gonna take. what if i realise it’s not what i want? i can’t do that to you, harry. but i just- i don’t want this to change anything. you’re still my best friend. i can’t lose you again.”

harry and tobi both crying now. it almost felt like they were breaking up again but in the way they were supposed to. it was harder than they thought.

“hey, look at me.” harry pushed the curls out of tobi’s face and help her cheek. “you’re never gonna lose me, okay? we’ll figure this out together. i’m not going anywhere. not again.”

“promise?” tobi held out her pinkie and they both giggled through their tears.

harry hooked their pinkies together, “promise.”

Liked by arianagrande, harrystyles and 2,103,792 others

tobiskye did a radio one interview go watch it or else

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tobifan1 i want your brows

tobifan2 can’t wait to watch it

harrystyles Or else WHAT??

tobiskye @/harrystyles i’ll come to ur house and eat all ur food

harrystyles @/tobiskye you did that last week.

tobiskye @/harrystyles i hate u

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arianagrande text ! me ! back !

tobiskye @/arianagrande oh FUCK I FORGOT