#if there are inconsistancies/etc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingsfromhome · 11 months

Text

Impossibly Real II

Y’all loved Part 1 and honestly were so sweet about it. I had to wrap up their story in return 💗

——————————————————

Harry knocks on my door and I open it before he's even done. I was excited for this date, I really think this was going to be a good one.

That didn’t stop me, however, from having mad jitters while getting ready. In the end I settled on wearing a silky pink skirt and with a fuzzy pastel pink sweater that was my favourite go-to. I paired it with white boots (still heeled) and some gold accessories. I was feeling myself.

As soon as Harry sees me in the doorway he takes a step back. “Wow. You look…stunning.”

I feel my cheeks heat, unused to this kind of attention from Harry. And I could tell he meant it—it wasn’t just a cheap compliment to get in my pants. I try not to show my internal squirming. “Thank you. You look very handsome!”

“Ah,” he waves the compliment away. “You see me wear this sort of thing to work all the time.”

“I know but you shaved,” I reach out to touch his face and then think better of it. We hadn’t even gone further than my door yet.

“I did,” he rubs his face like I wanted to.

“I like the smell of your aftershave,” I say as we get onto the lift and the smell bounces off the four walls.

He leans all the way down so that his neck is beside my face. I giggle—god, I actually giggle. I feel an overwhelming desire to rub my nose against the heat of his skin but I keep my freak hidden and fake an exaggerated whiff instead.

“C’mon,” Harry holds his hand out and we head out to the tube, my hand securely wrapped in his; I feel giddy just holding his hand.

This was going to be the best date ever.

I mean, it was still weird going on a date with my neighbour. For one, he had to only close the door to his home, turn around, and knock on my door to pick me up. For another, I'd seen Harry a million times since I moved in last year and not once did I ever think we would be doing this.

Harry and I talk all the way to the place about a new Netflix show we were both watching. It's light conversation, we don't acknowledge the fact that we're actually doing a proper date. That we were both mega into each other. It's almost like we were simply traveling into work and casually chatting 'til we reached our destination.

The restaurant—Harry’s pick, is tucked onto a street corner near Soho, the window shades are blackened except for a fancy script. Island X.

“I’ve never heard of the place.”

“It just opened a couple months ago,” Harry holds the door open for me; who said chivalry was dead.

“Wow,” I marvel at the interiors. It’s like someone took the Great Gatsby and worked it with wood tones and orange lighting. And monstera plants.

“That’s a lot of monsteras.”

“What?” Harry asks.

“Monsteras?” I wave my hand at all the ginormous planters but Harry’s attention is to the front of the line.

“Monsteras?” He asks, eyes still forward. “Like. The Lil Nas x song?”

“What?” I crinkle my brow. But then it clicks and I can’t help but laugh. “Oh my god you think I’m talking about-“

“Hiya!” The hostess interrupts me and I cover my mouth.

“Are you laughing at me?” Harry whispers as we follow to our table.

“Yes,” I wipe my tears as we’re lead to a cozy corner. I’m even tucked into my seat!

“Wow I’ve never been to someplace as fancy as this?”

“Really?” Harry’s face flits with a microsecond of an emotion I can’t read. “I thought maybe this was your scene.”

“Oh no,” I shake my head. “This is very fancy. I’m kinda low brow.”

“Oh,” his eyebrows knit together and he fiddles with his napkin. “Some woman at work suggested it.”

“Oh who?” I ask. Harry’s spoken to me about work before, I thought maybe it was a coworker I knew.

“Just someone that works on the same floor.” He pulls his glass of water close to him. “She’s just a friend.”

“Oh I didn’t mean it like…” I trail off. Why would he think I was being jealous?

Suddenly the awkwardness of the situation washes over me. I was on a date. With my neighbour. If this didn't end well we were screwed. I would lose my only friend in the entire neighbourhood! It would be painful to live next door to each other! At least until one of us found a partner or one of us moved out of the complex.

The pressure of it all makes my ears ring.

“Right,” Harry clears his throat as the waiter approaches and starts to scan the wines. “Any of the wines look good to you?”

I stare at Harry while he buries his nose in the menu. Somehow I felt like I already messed up. Maybe all of these bad dates had one thing in common: me.

God, I couldn’t even make it work with a friend.

Harry glances up. I guess I forgot to respond. Before he could notice I’d been too busy staring I start to scan the menu.

“D’you mind red?” I ask.

“Sure. Which red do you recommend?” Harry asks the waiter. I think it’s cute he asks. Dates in the past have pretended to know the difference between all the names and then ordered something that usually tasted like dog shite.

They discuss the wine and I pretend to nod here and there while I browse the dinner menu. Obviously I had studied it after getting dressed tonight. I knew what was safe for me to get (pasta or seafood) and what would cause a big mess (burgers).

“I’m gonna guess what you’ll order.” Harry says once we’re alone again.

“You really think you know me well enough?”

“Yeah. I think I know you well enough.”

“I don’t think so.” He might have a lucky guess but we hadn’t eaten out together enough for him to know my taste. Plus what I wanted and what I was going to order tonight would be two different things.

“I bet you I know. I’m so confident I’m not even going to say it right now. I’ll just order for you when the waiter comes back.”

“Are we confident or cocky?” I tease.

“Confident,” he says but he drapes his arms back against his chair and relaxes, giving an f-boy cocky pose. I laugh, grateful for the reprieve of living in my thoughts.

“Ready to order?” The waiter asks after pouring our wine. It was a nice balanced wine that was helping me relax.

Harry orders his meal and then looks up at me, “She’ll get the Organic Highland Prime Burg-“

“Actually,” I cut him off. Harry looks at me with his sure smile but I shake my head. It falls immediately.

I feel bad but I just couldn’t eat a burger at a fancy place like this on a first date. I’d done it before and it had not gone over well. Think White Chicks but instead of a Terry Crews it was a Ben Shapiro.

“Sorry,” I point to the safe item. “I’ll do the Blackened Lobster Lasagna.”

“Great choice.” The waiter says something else but I’m too preoccupied with how much worse I was making the date.

“Really?” Harry asks. The waiter pauses as he looks between Harry and I and I start to flush.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” It comes out more curt than I intended and Harry just nods.

“Sorry.” I apologize to Harry again once the waiter leaves. “I didn’t really want something messy.”

“Oh. Yeah it’s alright.” He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. "The lasagna does sound really good.”

“Right? I think it'll be really good.” I hear myself talking and want to stab myself. Really. Because this king of small talk was what I fell back on talking about when a date was going bad.

I had to redeem this. This couldn’t be a bad date. This was just Harry.

“This wine’s good too,” Harry says as he puts his glass down on the edge just as I yank my foot out from under the table to show him my shoes, yanking the table cloth in the process.

“So my shoes-“

“Shit!”

His wine tips over onto my white boots and we stare at them as the stain spreads.

“Napkin-“ Harry’s voice snaps me out of the spiral I’d found myself in as I watched wine seep into my coveted shoes.

Harry’s leaning over patting it down but I yank my foot away. This was incredibly embarrassing; everyone around us was watching the scene we were making.

“We need water-“

“I’m going to the toilet,” I announce. Harry looks up sharply, his face is panicked.

“I’m sorry yn I-“

“S’cuse,” I don’t mean to brush him away but with all the eyes on me and the fact that I kept finding ways to ruin this date—this date that was supposed to be perfect, my eyes were pricking with tears. I needed a breather.

“Shite,” I sigh as I balance on one foot in the toilets and try to wipe the stain in the sink. But red wine stained badly just like my performance on every date I’ve ever been on.

“Get yourself together,” I say to myself in the mirror. “Harry is amazing and you’re fucking all this up! Shoes are temporary, finding a good man can take forever! Snap! Out! Of! It!”

I do some deep breaths and one last attempt at cleaning my shoe before I make my way out.

“Yn I’m so sorry,” Harry stands as I return. “I’m so clumsy tonight I didn’t mean to-“

“Harry it’s fine,” I put my hand on his arm. “Honestly.”

“The stain didn’t come out!” He notices the shoes. “I’ll replace them—send me a bill or…”

I don’t have the heart to tell them he couldn’t replace my £400 Acne boots that easily. I’d bought them a couple seasons ago to celebrate the fact that I’d finally gone out with a guy, and hadn’t thought about my ex once. They were I’m-officially-over-my-ex boots.

Now that I thought about it though, it was stupid to wear them on a date with Harry. They were soaked in the bad luck of all the dates they’d been on since.

Agh!

“I’m serious Har,” I cut him off from his plans to replace them. I take a deep breath and motion he should do the same. “Look, it’s really fine. Plus they’re my favourite colour now. They’ll go with the rest of my wardrobe.”

He stops apologizing and looks down at the splotch of pink on the white. “In that case. We’ll have to take the bottle home and stain the other one.”

“Deal,” I say and he smiles at me softly and it feels like things might go better now. Maybe we really had a chance.

When our food arrives Harry’s steak isn’t done how he asked, and they take it back. I awkwardly push around the food on my plate, not wanting to eat until he had his food too.

“You can eat,” Harry reminds me. “I’m sure it’ll be out any minute.”

“We can share for no-“

“Just eat,” Harry says but now all the focus is on me eating and I feel tense and awkward and quite frankly, frustrated.

I shouldn’t have piled so much hope on this date going perfectly.

We wave the waiter over when too much time has passed by, and he seems confused about the steak.

“D’you think they forgot?” I ask Harry.

“Maybe,” he looks frustrated, two spots of pink have taken residence on his cheeks. I feel bad. This date wasn’t turning out for both of us.

It takes another 10 minutes for his plate to come back out. By then my plate looks like I hated it but tried to eat it to be polite. Harry tries to ask if it can be heated but I’m way too non-confrontational in restaurants to let that happen so I shovel a mouthful of room temperature food and give the waiter a thumbs up.

I just wanted to go home.

By the time Harry pays the bill (it was expensive, even though we agreed to skip dessert. He insisted on paying) I was ready to call an uber to whiz us home. But he suggests we walk off the food to another station and it sounds like a good idea so I follow along. Maybe now we could have a nice time.

The walk was supposed to help clear our heads and be romantic but somehow the mood had soured beyond repair. We don’t talk the whole time, both of us lost in our own heads. Neither of us holds hands, or even loop arms.

And somehow it gets worse when we arrive at my door.

"Well this is me," Harry points to his door beside mine in an attempt at a joke. I throw a polite smile.

"Thanks for the date," I say. I feel like it's a little curt but I didn't really know how to act. Did we hug? Shake hands? We liked each other but clearly this date was proving we didn't belong together. Kissing each other goodnight felt like the opposite direction of tonight's vibe.

"No, thank you. And sorry. Again." Harry looks embarrassed as he glances down at my shoes.

"Harry, honestly it's okay," I try to reassure him. I would take walking ten miles in heels I had yet to break in than this awkward air that stifled us. It was never supposed to be like this!

"No it's not," Harry huffs. "I ruined your shoes."

"They're shoes. Just shoes."

"It's a first date, I don't want you thinking I'm a clumsy mess."

"Harry," I lean my back against my door. He looked so good tonight, I was so excited when I opened my door to him a few hours ago and everything had gone tits up. I didn't want him to feel this way. It was my fault, not his.

"I just," he rubs his face and then sighs.

"It wasn't that bad," I lie. The night had gone so badly.

"Yes it is!" He throws his hands up and the movement makes me flinch. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. God, everything's just..."

I blink and my eyes start to sting. It was the end of the night and we'd officially decided this wasn't going anywhere. It wasn't a shock, but still it was upsetting. I really liked him. I really thought things would work out between us, especially after that night with my heels in his bathroom. I had to call it.

"I should go in. I'll see you later Harry."

His brows scrunch up, he opens his mouth and then closes it. "G'night yn."

"G'night." I whisper. He stays there like he always does as I go into my flat. I peek through the peephole and catch him mouth a fuck before opening his own door.

Still in my outfit, my shoes kicked off to the side, I start to pace. I can't do anything except go over the date in my head.

Was there a particular moment I fucked up? Should I have said something differently? How did Harry and I go from having amazing chemistry and an honest friendship to this?

Maybe I was trying too hard. I should have just ordered the burger like he’d guessed, should have gone along with what he talked about. I should have been a better date.

That was it. I couldn't go to bed like this.

The fact that every time I had a shot at a date, a real chance, something had to go wrong and it was always me. I had to fix this.

I grab the doorknob, and pause. I was about to march right into Harry's flat and ask why the date went so terribly. But what was the point? It would just make things even more awkward.

I think about the last time we hung out. There was beer. Maybe we just need beer—no hundred pound dish or fancy red wine. We just needed to be us. Lowbrow beers and a relaxed environment.

I grab a jacket to throw over my outfit and slip into my Stan Smiths. I head downstairs and in the direction of the local shop for a 6-pack. We would drink beer in our flat and get over this awful date. This couldn't be the last of us.

As I cash out a familiar head of hair in the closest aisle catches my attention.

"Harry?"

"Yn?" He's dressed down in joggers and a jumper.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Grabbing dessert," he shakes the plastic container with donuts inside. "What are you doing here?"

I hold my box up. His eyes widen slightly, a frown touches his lips for a mere second before he arranges his face into a neutral expression.

"All for yourself?" He asks.

"No actually-“ I'm about to launch into what I was going to do but the cashier clears his throat and stares pointedly at Harry. He was holding up the line now.

"Oh sorry," he walks up to the counter and pays for his items. I stand off to the side and we walk out together.

"So you were saying?" He asks.

"Well. I was coming to your place with these."

"You were?" He stops in the middle of the sidewalk to ask.

"Yeah!"

"You're not joking?"

"No!" I laugh. "Why?"

"I..." he looks down at his box and swallows what he was saying. "Let me guess, was it a bad date?"

When he looks at me it's a cheeky look. I almost want to kiss him there.

"Another bad date yep," I tell him and we start to walk towards home.

"Was it the bloke?"

"Not exactly, I think a lot of it had to do with me."

"You sure the date wasn't an arse?"

"No he was sweet. He was very chivalrous, I really thought it was just going to go smoother."

"What do you reckon happened?" He asks. We were both enjoying playing this game. Quite frankly it was combing out the awkwardness.

"I dunno. For one I really wanted a burger but I got in my head and got lasagna instead. When do I ever eat lasagna!?” Harry laughs unexpectedly and it makes me feel good so I continue. “I started thinking about all of my failed dates and almost-relationship. I tried not to make this one date turn out like them but that was my mistake.”

“Sounds like it’s tough being you,” he teases. I push him lightly.

“Well if you could put yourself in our shoes what do you think happened?"

"I think your date got a bit nervous." He responds. By now we've reached our lobby and we take the lift up. "He's not used to going on dates—didn’t he have a steady girlfriend for 3 years? That's 3 years with 0 first dates. He didn’t want to screw things up and he was so in his head about the fact that he took her to an overly fancy place when that wasn’t her scene-“

“It’s not. But it was a cute place. Just poor service.”

“Yeah it was shite service—or I heard it was.” We glance at each other and grin. "I heard he split wine on your shoes."

"Psh," I laugh. “The pink stains were on the outside this time not the inside.”

The lift lands on our floor and we hover outside our doors. "Yours or mine?"

"Mine?" Harry opens his door and I follow the familiar hall to the couch I'd sat on just a week ago. I pull my legs up and we crack open beers, each biting into the sugary pillows he'd bought.

“I actually bought dessert so I could have an excuse to knock on your door and talk to you after that date.” Harry confesses after we’ve each had our moment with our donuts.

I feel warm inside, we’d both wanted an epilogue after the date. We were determined, and ended up in the same place. I hold my drink up. “Cheers.”

Harry tilts his head and smiles. He’s gonna be the death of me whether this works out or not, the thought pops into my head.

"I feel like I need to apologize," Harry continues. "I didn't want to mess things up and I think I just overthought it all and-"

"Please." I cut him off. "I totally made everything awkward and I think I'm just cursed."

"I don't know why I thought you would like such a fancy place. As soon as you said you're not into it I felt like I was doomed-"

"I didn't mind it! I just wasn't expecting it from you!"

"You don't think I'm a classy man?"

I laugh, "Just not that uppity on a first date."

"I was trying to pull out all the stops."

"Instead we just full stopped."

That gets a laugh from Harry. It dies down as he asks, "So what do you reckon? Is this a sign we're only meant to be neighborly friends?"

I bite my donut, mulling his question over. The beer and donuts were helping. I felt like I was thinking clearer than I had all night.

"I wouldn't say no."

We sit in silence as we think about it until he moves down the couch and rests his knee against mine.

"I really like you.”

"I like you too," I agree with my heart quickening.

"Then why don't we stop dating and just do this. No dates. Just hanging out."

"I don't know," I say. "I don't mind being wined and dined occasionally. Don’t you?”

"Okay, how about we just hang out. And when hanging out gets boring we put on our going out clothes and wine and dine each other. Think about it," he says and I nod, agreeing.

“Only if when we put on our going out clothes you keep wearing that aftershave.”

“Deal. And you wear your favourite colour each time.”

“Done.” I grin.

"So you wanna watch a movie or something?" He asks.

“Is that a euphemism?” I tease. He turns his TV on and turns to me with a disappointed look. I try not to laugh.

“No yn get your head out of the gutter. A movie. An actual movie.”

I stick my tongue out. "Can we just not watch anything romantic or sad though?”

"Toy Story it is," Harry puts on the film and we lean back against his couch, cuddled into each other. His fingers play with my hair in slow movements that feel comforting.

I wake up a few hours later, the movie long over. Harry's snoring softly, his arm wrapped around me.

I smile to myself. Even after the disaster of a date we were alright.

I nuzzle myself into the crook of his neck, feeling the musky heat of his skin, and drift back off.

***

A knock wakes me.

I open my eyes slowly and look around the room. I wasn't in my room. I was still on the couch, the cushions had done wonders for my back but my neck was stiff.

Harry was still fast asleep, his lips parted, and his arm thrown across his face. He looked so kissable then.

There was another knock, and Harry's arm slips off his face. He sits up, and the knocking resumes.

"Coming!" He shouts as he runs his hands over his face and hair.

He stands and looks back at me, and smiles. He's still sleepy but he's smiling at me.

"Morning." He says.

"Good morning."

He stays there with a dazed smile until I point behind him.

"Door?"

He nods and makes his way over to answer the door.

"Harry Sty-?" a voice asks.

“Yep,” Harry mumbles something I can’t hear. He’s asked to sign whatever it was.

"Thanks," his voice is rough and he clears it.

Closing the door behind him, he throws whatever package he'd received to the floor and walks over to me. "We fell asleep."

"I guess so. I'm still in last night's clothing." My skirt was now wrinkled and my top was half untucked and ridden up my midriff. "What time is it?"

Harry glances at his watch. "Half past 8."

"Shit! I've got work in half hour!"

"Work from here," Harry leans over me on the couch and offers his simple solution.

"I'll have to shower."

"You live next door. Just do your business and come back with your work things. It'll be like old times."

He's inches closer to me, and I really want to kiss him. It's funny we'd done none of that on our first date but now I want a re-do.

"Okay," I whisper.

"Okay," Harry whispers and he closes the distance and kisses me. It was better than our first kiss.

When I pull away I have a stupid smile on my face.

"Go get ready love," Harry laughs and pushes me off the couch. "You'll be late."

"See you later," I wave and walk out the door, smiling because he’d called me love again. And he hadn’t even hesitated.

Harry was right, it was a lot like the old days. In between work meetings, and Harry's calls, we had a lot of time to spend together. We chatted shit, snuck in some kisses, and talked about work.

We don’t go on a second date, instead we order pizza and watch Toy Story 2 (even though we'd fallen asleep in the first one).

Our days together are fun, and the nights were even more fun.

It was a Wednesday, a week and a half after the disastrous date. Harry and I had taken most of the week off and we'd spent it together, and tonight we'd gone out.

It was a great date, nothing fancy or high brow. Just a lowkey pub with a bunch of beers and greasy messy food and tons of laughter.

"So," Harry says as we're walking hand in hand back to our flat. "How many more days of leave do you have?"

"I have four and a half weeks total."

"Woah. That’s a lot."

"Why? You're not regretting this are you? Getting bored of me?" I tease him.

"I've had 29 years to prepare for you," he teases back.

"That's a good one. But I don't think you can handle 4.5 weeks.”

"Try me."

"Fine," I bump my hip into his.

We're silent for the rest of the walk. But it’s a good silence. When we reach the building, Harry takes his time unlocking his door.

"What are you doing?"

"Just waiting," he shrugs and I laugh.

"Do you want me to stay the night?"

"Yes," he answers without any hesitation; in the last week I'd slept in my bed once.

He opens the door pretty quickly after that and I follow inside—tomorrow, tomorrow I would sleep in mine. Harry could join me if he wanted.

Tonight I watch him close the door, the second the lock clicks I'm taking his jacket off for him and he's laughing at my eagerness.

"Someone's impatient."

"I'm not," I lie and drop his jacket.

"No?" He wraps his arms around me, pulling me flush against him. He kisses my jaw, and then the corner of my lips. You'd think I'd be used to this by now but it's just as dizzying as the times before.

I shake my head and his mouth hovers over mine, his hot breath tickling me.

"What about now?" He whispers.

"Nope," I breathe out and I push onto my tippy toes to kiss him. What can I say, I was denying it with him but I'd never been good at the slow and steady stuff. Harry's mouth was a drug, and I couldn't help myself.

He's not slow and steady either.

He's quick to lift me up and set me on the island in his kitchen, his fingers trailing over the edge of my skirt, his mouth working against mine.

His hand cups my ass and his fingers inch closer to my heat.

"Yn," his voice is soft and he pulls away.

"Yes?"

"Did I tell you how radiant you looked tonight? I can’t take my eyes off of you any time I see you, especially when you’re so loudly and comfortably you in your coordinated outfits and elaborate hairstyles. I feel like the luckiest guy out there. I think I am the luckiest guy in the whole city. I catch sight of you in public and…you just take my breath away."

"Aw Har. I’m already yours. You don't have to butter me up," I tease him as I pull him back to me but his words make me weaker than any kiss could. I know my eyes are growing watery at all of the nice things he’s saying and I’m grateful when he pretends not to see.

This was the nicest thing a guy has said to me, he was really telling me that he liked me for me. He felt lucky. Well I must have won the lottery if he felt lucky.

"I know I don't have," he doesn't pull back again but whispers this into my neck. A shiver runs up my spine. "But I just want to tell you that you're so beautiful."

His mouth trails over my jaw, and back to the corner of my mouth, he doesn't kiss me and I want him to.

"So beautiful," he whispers and I tilt my head back to invite him to continue the trail his lips were making. "So sweet."

He kisses my collar bone and the strap of my top. "So lovely."

His hands trail over my thighs and I want him so badly.

"You're making me melt," I tell him.

"Good thing we're in the kitchen," he hums.

"You're the worst," I giggle and his hands cup my cheeks and he presses his lips against mine. His tongue swipes over my lips and I allow him entry.

We're a tangle of limbs as we kiss and kiss, until I can't breathe. When we move to the bedroom I hardly have time to catch my breath there too.

"Yn," his voice is rough, his hair wild. His body is hot against mine and the way he says my name is enough to make me transcend this dimension.

"I like you. A lot."

"I like you too. A lot too." I can barely get the words out as I try to worm my way into his skin.

He chuckles at my growing impatience but he’s too far in to hold back again. He gives in to every one of my needs--even ones I didn't realize I had.

I'm a goner.

As we fall asleep, his arm wrapped tightly around me, I know we did the right thing. Despite being neighbours or the awful first date. The fact that we bumped into each other at the shop later that night meant we were supposed to have a second chance.

We worked best like this: warm and tucked away, whispering confessions into each other’s skin, seeing each other and not caring what we aren’t.

He pulls me closer in his sleep, sighing into my hair. This felt impossible before but it was so real now. And I think I really won the lottery; I’d dated a million toads before but I think I finally found my prince.

TAGLIST:

@kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @mellamolayla

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #i hope this meets everyones expectations #for how things go between these two #harry styles angst #fanfic #i did not do a lot of edits so dont mind any inconsistencies etc

113 notes · View notes