moonlight

“I aspire to be him!” Noor shouts through the music, pointing towards Cowboy Boots guy and you just laugh. 

She grabs your wrist and pulls you deeper into the house where a bunch of people you know from the dorm next to yours already claimed a spot in the living room. Most of these faces you only see at parties, but you always greet each other like old friends. Frat parties surely bring people together. 

As you squeeze into their circle you spot an even more familiar face and your stomach immediately tightens. 

Harry is sitting on the couch, like always, he somehow looks completely effortless in the middle of chaos, one arm lazily stretched across the back of the couch, messy curls bouncing with each head movement he makes. 

His eyes lift, meeting yours and suddenly, you feel way too aware of your own presence. Thinking of it, the excitement you feel before parties is most likely because of him, rather than the party itself. He is a well-known name around campus, as captain of the hockey team he is definitely a star athlete girls swoon after, understandably. He’s got that boyish charm mixed with something mysterious and his good looks are definitely helping his case, they have you in a chokehold since freshman year. The two of you have been running in the same circles, thanks to Noor and her popularity, but it’s not like you’ve been best of friends. 

Harry’s expression brightens slightly in recognition and he lifts his cup toward you in greeting. 

“Hey,” he says when you settle in the circle.

“Hey,” you breathe out, like you’re talking to a celebrity or something.

Pathetic, you think to yourself and look away before your staring could turn awkward. Then Noor throws in her favorite game she always makes people play at parties, mostly because she likes when things get messy.

“Okay!” she claps loudly. “We’re playing truth or dare because I’m bored.”

A chorus of approval rises around the group. 

“Maybe we could play something else,” you suggest, hoping to save yourself from public humiliation. Unfortunately for you, Noor never considers that.

“Nope, this will be perfect,” she grins proudly. 

Naturally, she likes to encourage a heavily alcoholic version of the game, where basically everyone has to drink for practically everything. So ten minutes later you’re sitting on the carpet with your legs crossed, an empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle and a worrying amount of alcohol in your system as the game goes on. Dares have been a popular choice so far, a girl has kissed her ex, a guy has given a lapdance to a girl he didn’t know, but truths are making rounds as well and the game gets dirtier with every round.

Then the bottle spins again and this time it lands on you.

“Nooo,” you groan, dropping your head back., taking a mandatory sip of your drink.

“Truth or dare?” one of the frat boys asks excitedly. 

“Truth,” you answer quickly. “Always truth. I’m not getting arrested tonight.” 

“I would bail you out,” Noor laughs beside you.

“Thank you, but I’ll stick to truth.”

The guy grins mischievously. 

“Okay then… Out of everyone you’ve hooked up with on campus…” he starts, making everyone lean in immediately, “who gave you the best orgasm?” 

The group explodes into screaming before you can even process the question. 

“Drop the name, girl!” someone hollers while you feel heat creeping up your neck and cheeks. 

Your gaze meets Harry’s for a second, he is just smiling, waiting for your answer like everyone else. Maybe it’s from the alcohol, maybe it’s the exhaustion from dealing with disappointing men, but you feel like being blunt about your answer.

“That would require one of them actually giving me one.” 

It’s like you just dropped a bomb, everyone explodes, no one expected you to say that. Noor nearly falls over laughing beside you while someone across the circle chokes on their drink. 

“Wait, seriously?” another girl asks, eyes wide. 

You shrug, trying to act far more unbothered than you actually feel as heat crawls up your neck. 

“What?” you laugh nervously. “You asked.” 

When you glance at Harry again, expecting him to laugh like everyone else, he doesn’t. He’s still smiling faintly, but there’s something else in his expression now, something more curious than amused. 

“Honestly? Real,” a brunette across the circle says, raising her drink toward you dramatically. 

“Thank you!” another girl immediately shouts from the couch. “Finally someone said it!” 

The girls erupt into laughter and cheers while a few of the guys start protesting loudly. 

“Oh come on!”

“There’s no way all of them were bad.”

“Y’all are brutal tonight.” 

“No, you’re just bad at sex,” Noor says matter-of-factly before taking a sip of her drink. The room explodes again. You cover your face with your hands, laughing despite yourself. 

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to play.” 

“Oh my God,” one of the hockey players groans. “You just destroyed male morale for the rest of the semester.” 

“As she should,” a girl mutters. 

Someone throws a pillow across the circle and suddenly everybody starts yelling over each other at once. 

“Alright, alright!” the frat guy running the game laughs. “Damn, didn’t know we were starting gender wars tonight.” 

“Too late for that,” Noor snorts beside you. You sink back slightly into your spot on the carpet, cheeks still burning, but weirdly… lighter. Because honestly? It kinda felt good to actually say it out loud, you’ve been carrying this secret around for way too long. 

Then one of the guys across the circle leans forward with narrowed eyes. 

“Wait, so how many guys are we talking about exactly?”

“Are you trying to slut shame me now?” you arch an eyebrow at him.

“Not at all, I just need the numbers for the statistics!” he holds up his hands in defense. “Like, two out of two is not as bad a ten out of ten.”

A horrified laugh escapes you.

“Oh my God, this is not a research project.” 

“No, seriously!” he insists through his own laughter. “Context matters!” 

“Both versions are unacceptable on the male side!” Noor points at him. 

“No!” he protests. “Two guys is kinda unfortunate, but could happen. Ten on the other hand…”

“That’s a campus epidemic,” the brunette from earlier cuts in with a laugh.

“This just proves how much women have to put up with!” Noor raises her drink and almost all the girls join her.

“Can we move on before every man in this room develops a complex?” someone groans. 

“Too late,” another guy mutters into his drink. 

“Still think she should name names,” somebody says, but you just roll your eyes. 

Your eyes drift across the room again, instinctively searching for Harry. Bad idea, because he is already looking at you. He’s pretty quiet compared to everyone else around him, one arm hanging lazily over his bent knee now as the corner of his mouth curves upward slightly. Like he is amused by what you just admitted.

Then one of the hockey guys nudges Harry with his elbow. 

“Careful, mate,” he jokes loudly. “Don’t look too interested. She’ll expose you next.” 

The group bursts into laughter again. Heat immediately crawls back into your face and you grab your cup for another sip, already preparing for Harry to laugh it off. But instead, Harry barely reacts, just shrugs his shoulders and says: “I’m not on her list of disappointments, maybe you have something to worry about, Tanner?” he teases back, making everyone around them laugh. 

Slowly, the rumble around your answer dies down and you carry on with the game. By the time you leave with Noor you kind of forget about it too and expect it to just become a funny story you sometimes bring up. 

Well, you were wrong. 

Because apparently, the information you shared wasn’t as forgettable as you expected it to be. By the next afternoon it becomes kinda viral, a meme page had posted a screenshot of your confession and some girls started a micro trend by listing names of guys who failed to please them, Noor had already sent you three of these videos. 

And then there were the DMs. The worst of it all, because some guys took it quite personally and started offering their unwanted services.

be honest though was it really that bad? i could fix that for u

i can show you a good time bby

if you want I can prove you wrong 

It keeps going like that all weekend, driving you insane. You notice the stares and some guys even wink at you even though you have no idea who they are. By the time Monday comes, you’re considering just dropping out of school to have peace. 

Walking into your afternoon class you’re so occupied trying to stay off the radar that you totally forgot that this is the lecture you share with Harry. He often comes in late and just sits in the closest seat to the door, but this time he is there before you and waves at you to sit beside him. You hesitate for half a second, but then head over to him.

“Hey,” he says when you drop into the chair beside him. 

“Hey, you smile a little nervously, grabbing your notebook from your backpack. The room is still buzzing, you still have a few minutes until the professor arrives.

Your phone vibrates on the desk and you stiffen automatically, knowing it’s another DM. Harry glances sideways at you. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, leaning just a tad bit closer. You exhale through your nose.

“I’m fine.” 

He hums like he doesn’t believe you, but doesn’t push it and you just ignore your phone, until it vibrates again.

And again. 

You exhale sharply as you grab it and mute it fully, but your anger doesn’t go over Harry’s head entirely.

“Someone is eager to reach you, huh?”

“Um, not exactly,” you sigh, deleting the notifications from your lockscreen. “I’ve been getting some… offers.”

His eyebrows arch and he shoots you a questioning look. 

“I’m hoping these are not the kind of offers I’m thinking about, but…”

“But they are,” you finish for him with a forced smile. He hums with a frown as you drop your phone into your bag so it’s not distracting you. “Seems like some guys took it very personally to change my stats,” you mumble under your breath just as the professor walks in and the lecture starts. 

For about twenty minutes you’re able to ignore the shitshow that’s been following you around and actually focus on the lecture. The only distraction is Harry’s presence beside you, it’s like you can’t not notice all his movements, the way he changes position in his seat or scribbles his notes down. 

Then, sometime halfway through the lecture he leans closer and whispers to you.

“I think the problem is that you’ve become a challenge for them.”

“Huh?” you turn to him confused. 

“The DMs,” he nods towards your bag by your leg. “They will keep coming, because you’re a challenge to them, they all want to prove that they are the ones to change your stats.”

“Okay, yeah, I can see that,” you nod, thinking through his words. 

“There’s a solution though.”

“What?” you ask, a little louder than you should be talking during a lecture. The professor clears his throat.

“Please leave the friendly chats after the class. Thank you,” he calls out with a disapproving look on his face, staring at you. 

Embarrassed, you slide lower in your seat, while you hear Harry chuckling under his breath beside you. Not wanting to piss off the professor, you have to sit through the whole lecture and it’s complete torture, not knowing what Harry wanted to tell you. 

The moment the class is over you turn to him. 

“So what is it?”

He grins, packing up his desk. You do the same and the two of you head out together.

“So, as embarrassing as it is, men are pretty simple,” he starts explaining. “They see a challenge, their competitiveness turns on and they won’t back down until they get what they want.”

“Okay, so then what’s the solution other than dropping out of school and becoming a nun?”

Harry chuckles at your joke, which makes your stomach flip. 

“The real problem here is that you’re available.”

“Available?” you frown. “For what? To be continuously disrespected by assholes?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “You’re available to receive their offers.”

“I don’t think I’m following,” you admit just as you reach the branching of the road, you should be heading for your next class, while Harry is about to head to practice.

“By available I mean that you’re not taken,” he rephrases. “If you were dating someone, claimed by a guy, they wouldn’t feel like they could just easily slide into your DMs and make those ridiculous offers.”

“Oh, so I’m supposed to just find someone to date me, it’s that easy?” you ask totally sarcastically and Harry once again chuckles. 

“Or you can just fake date someone.”

“Because that’s easier to find someone for, right?”

“I could do it.”

Your eyes widen and lips part. Did you just hear him right? Did he just offer to be your fake boyfriend to help you out or it’s just your brain playing nasty tricks on you?

But as he stares back at you, you slowly realize that he really did say that.

“I’m sorry, what? You’re offering to fake date me?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, like it’s no big deal.

“I… I have so many questions right now,” you admit with a flustered laugh.

“Okay, I understand,” he nods. “Well, I have practice now, but I get off at six. Why don’t we meet up and we can discuss your questions?” He is already backing away towards the sports centre while you just stand there, like a dumb statue.

“Um, okay? Sure,” you agree at last. Harry nods with a smile and then turns around and disappears in the sea of students. 

***

You can’t believe it, but at six o’clock you’re waiting by the sports centre for Harry to be done with practice so you could talk about him fakedating you. How insane does that sound?

Sitting on a bench near the exit you start noticing his teammates and your pulse quickens. Every time the door opens you’re scared and kind of excited at the same time to see Harry and when it’s finally him stepping out, you feel like fainting. 

But as he approaches you with a soft, friendly smile you oddly find yourself calming down. 

“So, have you thought about it?” he simply asks, dropping his bag to the ground and sitting beside you. 

“That’s all I’ve been doing,” you scoff truthfully, making him chuckle. “And I have so many questions.”

“Alright, let’s hear them.”

You have a million questions racing in your mind and can’t really choose one to ask first, until you find the one that’s probably the most burning.

With a sigh, you turn to face him. 

“Why?”

“Why what?” he cocks his head to the side.

“Why would you do it? What’s in it for you? I know what’s in it for me, but I don’t see your side.”

Harry nods, like he’s chewing on your words, moving his gaze around the buildings surrounding you before he looks back into your eyes.

“Maybe I’m trying to make up for the damage other guys do,” he shrugs, but you give him a look that makes it clear you’re not believing him. “Or maybe I just want to mess with others. I’m bored, this sounds like fun.”

“I’m not sure this should be your way of having fun, there are so many other things to do if you’re bored.”

“But I want to do this,” he points out. “I haven’t done it, I’m curious.”

“Don’t tell me it’s on your bucket list or whatever,” you shake your head laughing and that brings a smirk to his face.

“Maybe,” he teases you. “Maybe I just want to help a friend out.”

“So we’re friends?” you ask before you could think of your words. 

“Are we not?” he throws the question right back. 

“I mean… We’re in the same friend group and we are friendly, but I wouldn’t necessarily call you a good friend of mine.”

“Ouch,” he puts a hand over his chest dramatically, making you roll your eyes. “Well, maybe it’s time to change that!”

“I’m not sure fake dating is the best way to bring us closer,” you chuckle in disbelief.

“Not the best, but it’s one,” he shrugs smirking and you hate just how irresistible he looks. For a moment, you just stare at him. At the way he’s smiling at you like this whole thing is exciting instead of potentially catastrophic. Like fake dating you is genuinely something he wants to do. It makes your stomach twist dangerously and the urge to just be selfish and take it heightens. 

“This could backfire horribly if someone finds out we’re just faking it,” you tell him with a sigh.

“Oh, I know,” he nods confidently. “But we can figure out how to do it right.”

“You sure you want to do it?”

“I offered, didn’t I?”

“That doesn’t answer my question. I need an explicit confirmation.”

His eyes flicker over your face for a second before he leans back against the bench, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“I do genuinely want to do this.”

You stare back at him, as if you’re giving him the chance to back out, but he doesn’t and you aren’t either. 

“Okay,” you nod. “Then let’s discuss how to do it.”

Harry’s grin stretches wide as he nods and just like that, the acting starts. 

***

“Girl, if you keep staring at the door it might explode,” Noor pokes her elbow into your side as you sit in the cafeteria. “You’re giving it away.”

“Sorry, I just… this is so weird,” you mutter, so no one else around the table hears you. 

It’s been two days since you and Harry made a pact to fakedate so guys would stop bothering you and today is your official debut. Other than parties, the cafeteria is the best place to hard launch a relationship and that’s exactly what you’re about to do, only you’re so nervous you might fall right off your chair. 

You’ve discussed the most important dates and Harry suggested to just go with the flow, because planning it out too much might give you away. 

Noor is the only person you told the truth. You just knew you wouldn’t be able to convince her and you need her support to actually do this. 

“Yeah, but maybe stop looking like you’re expecting a SWAT team to kick the doors down,” she murmurs, making you let out a nervous laugh.

That’s when the doors open and Harry walks in with two of his teammates. Heads naturally turn in their directions, students greet them on their way over to your table and you can’t stop staring at him. Maybe it’s the nerves, or just how fucking good he looks, he consumes all your attention. 

He is halfway over to your table when his gaze meets yours and his whole face softens, while your stomach flips violently.

Noor says something beside you, but you hear nothing of it as Harry walks up to you. His friends greet others at the table, taking the empty seats while Harry strides right over to you. 

“Hi,” he says, eyes focused only on you, then he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek before taking the empty chair beside you. 

And if that wasn’t enough, he simply grabs the underside of your chair, pulls you closer and lazily drops a hand to your knee, acting like this whole scene was nothing special. But it was.

For you, of course, but for others too. You notice how some of the girls around the table are eyeing you with shock and surprise, like they just missed a chapter and you don’t blame them. It kinda feels like you did too. 

You try your best to act normal, but there is nothing normal about Harry Styles sitting beside you like this and you’re not only talking about his hand on your knee. He sits like the two of you belong together, like… actually. Like it’s the most natural thing to waltz in here, kiss you on the cheek and let everyone know your status without even saying a word.

It’s kind of scary, but exciting too. 

Noor kicks your foot lightly under the table. Your eyes snap at her and find her smiling like crazy.

“Stop,” you mouth her and force your body to relax so you’re not sitting like a plank of wood while Harry is oozing charm right beside you. 

“So what did we miss?” Larissa asks from across the table, wiggling her eyebrows in your direction. 

“Erm, what do you mean?” you ask innocently, but then Harry decides to move his hand from your knee and circle his arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you closer to him.

“We’re just exploring new things. Together,” he answers so nonchalantly, you’d believe him if you didn’t know the truth. Why is he so good at this?

“Oh really?” another friend of yours, Georgia asks with a smile so wide you have never seen on her face. 

“What, like it’s surprising?” Harry asks and you almost instantly scream Yes! It is! but everyone else around the table thinks about it for a second and actually agrees that it’s not a shocker.

Have you fallen into another universe? Why is it not surprising to anyone that you and Harry are an item now?

Questions like that flood your mind, but you can’t ask them without blowing your cover that seems to be working perfectly, so you’re left stewing in your own head.

Harry gently squeezes your shoulder, catching your attention.

“You alright?” he asks quietly. You’re very aware of how close your faces are, you can make out every freckle and blemish on his skin, along with his ridiculously pretty lashes that frame his light green eyes. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, but you’re anything but alright at the moment. 

“You’re doing good,” he gifts you with a small smile. “People are noticing us.”

Carefully, you look around in the cafeteria and realize he is right, people are eyeing the two of you, whispering and probably guessing which will eventually lead to spreading the change in your relationship status shortly. 

You turn back to face Harry and once again get swept away by him. It’s only day one and you agreed to keep the facade up for a couple of weeks until something else gets the attention of everyone and you can finally return to your normal again. But all you can think of now is how fucking beautiful and kind and perfect he is and that’s way too dangerous. 

Because you’re supposed to be acting, it’s only a temporary agreement, but right now, you’re scared of how the end of it will find you. 

For the rest of lunch you somehow manage to ease up enough not to freak out. With the girls you talk about having a movies night sometime soon and the boys talk about sport, it’s all the same as usual. Then when it’s time to leave Harry waits for you to gather your things and you almost ask him what he wants when you realize that you are a couple now and couples walk each other to class all the time. 

“I’ll carry that for you,” he says, grabbing your heavy Spanish lit textbook you can’t fit into your bag, so you usually just carry it around in your arms. 

“Oh, thanks,” you nod and then he holds his hand out for you. You blink a few times before eventually taking it and the two of you walk out hand in hand, earning quite some stares. 

You can’t not focus on his hold around your hand. It’s warm and his hand is much bigger than yours. His grip is relaxed and easy, like it’s not the first time the two of you are doing this. Meanwhile you’re about to spiral and question this whole agreement, but that’s exactly when a guy from the party last weekend crosses you and you do remember him sending you DMs too since your confessional. 

A wide grin stretches across his face and he is already opening his mouth to say something, but that’s when he sees your hand in Harry’s. The grin slips from his face instantly, instead, he just nods at you and keeps walking.

“Oh shit, it worked!” you whisper to Harry excitedly. He peeks down at you with a satisfied grin.

“Were you doubting my plan?” he asks, arching an eyebrow. You can’t help but chuckle. 

“Maybe a little. Not anymore though.”

***

By the time Thursday rolls around you’re talk of the campus, but not because of the party anymore. It’s because of you and Harry becoming an item. People whisper behind your back, the ballsy ones even ask you straight about it and you can’t walk from one class to the other without dealing with the endless stares. Although that last one might be because Harry keeps walking you whenever he has the time, holding your hand or draping an arm around your shoulders while he asks about your day. 

At first you thought he was just trying to ease the awkwardness with his questions, but he’s seemed genuinely interested in your occasional rants about papers or exciting projects. You asked him about hockey and he’s been teaching you the basics of the game, even invited you to their next game which you accepted. 

Solemnly because a good girlfriend would cheer on their boyfriend, not because you want to see him all sweaty and strong on the ice. 

When you get back to your dorm on Thursday evening, you feel drained, it’s been a long day and you want nothing than to take a shower and rot in bed while watching a movie with your favorite snacks. Returning from the shared bathroom you’re wrapped in your fluffy bathrobe and even light a candle as you get comfortable on your bed. 

Your phone buzzes just as you’re opening your bag of gummy bears. You honestly expect it to be Noor sending you another ridiculous TikTok about your “relationship,” but the second you see Harry’s name pop up on your screen, your stomach flips embarrassingly fast.

HARRY: Coach asked me if I’m dating you. Guess now truly everyone knows about us.

Y/N: No fucking way! Does he like student gossips?

HARRY: Embarrassingly, yes. He is often way too deep in our business.

You laugh out loudly at that, imagining their coach asking around about gossips during practice.

Y/N: I guess we succeeded then. I heard a girl today tell her friend that you surely write love poems for me.

HARRY: I could start if that’s what the people want.

Y/N: Please don’t.

HARRY: Wow, such an anti-romantic!

Y/N: I’m just protecting myself and you as well from the embarrassment.

HARRY: Maybe I’m a good poet? How do you know it would be embarrassing??

Y/N: Are you a good poet?

HARRY: The worst, actually.

The grin on your face is ridiculously wide as you lie in bed and just keep texting him. The movie you wanted to watch gets forgotten pretty fast. 

Y/N: Then my previous statement still stands.

HARRY: I actually did write a poem for a girl in high school.

Y/N: Stop. No you didn’t!

HARRY: Oh but I did.

Y/N: Do you remember it?

HARRY: It’s permanently burnt into my mind, unfortunately.

Y/N: I wanna read it.

HARRY: Absolutely not. I rhymed “eyes” with Styles.

Y/N: You wrote your name into it?? 

HARRY: Damn right I did.

Y/N: Did the poem at least work?

HARRY: Fuck no. She went to prom with another guy.

Y/N: Aw, I’m sorry. 

HARRY: Don’t be. My girlfriend now is way cuter. 

Your heart skips a beat. Is he flirting with you? Surely, he is just joking, but still, he just called you cute. 

From the desk across the room, Noor slowly lowers her laptop and squints at you suspiciously.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

“I’m not smiling.”

“Your face is about to literally burst from your smile.”

You force your face to relax, though miserably fail.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” you clear your throat. 

“Who are you texting?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at you. 

“Just Harry,” you answer as casually as possible, though your heart is still hammering in your chest.

“Uh-huh, just Harry.”

You school your expression and put your phone aside, opening your laptop to scroll through Netflix, though you’re not even reading any of the titles, you just want Noor’s suspicion to die down. 

Unfortunately, your phone buzzes again and you grab it so fast it’s ridiculous. You type your reply to Harry while ignoring Noor’s knowing smirk from across the room.

***

It’s your first time at a hockey game, even though the sport is pretty popular at your school. It’s a home game so luckily, you  don’t have to travel far. Noor happily agreed to come with you, you even watched a few videos together last night as preparation for the game, though Harry has been teaching you the basics all week. 

You’re already near the sports centre when he texts you.

HARRY: When are you arriving?

Y/N: In about two minutes. 

HARRY: Can you come to the back? I have something for you.

Y/N: Sure!

“Hey, can we go to the back for a second? Harry wants to meet up,” you tell Noor.

“Of course, you can meet your lover before his game,” she grins suggestively. “So how is the fake dating going?”

“Good, I guess. I’m only getting a few DMs now.”

“That’s good. And how about the thing between you and Harry?”

“What thing?” you ask nervously. 

“I don’t know, you’re always texting, he whispers things to you at lunch and the two of you look very coupled up, like… very.”

“That was the goal, to make guys think I’m unavailable.”

“Oh, so it’s all fake?”

You open your mouth, wanting to say yes, but then the word dies on your tongue. Is it all fake? Noor is right, you’ve been getting closer to Harry these past days and it’s way over the level of faking. Your agreement doesn’t require the late night texts and whispered inside jokes. It definitely doesn’t require the way your stomach flips every time his name lights up on your phone either. 

Noor watches you carefully, like she can physically see the spiral happening inside your head. 

“Wait,” she breathes out, leaning closer like she’s about to share a secret with you. “You’re into him, for real, right?”

“No?” you snap, way too fast. Noor’s mouth hangs open.

“You like him! You’re into him!”

“Would you stop… screaming?” you wave at her, the last thing you need is to draw attention. 

“I knew I felt something, like your vibes were different, but this explains it all,” she grins at you like crazy. “So since when?”

You stay quiet, warmth crawling up your neck and Noor grabs your arm.

“Holy shit, this isn’t new, right? It’s not just from the fake dating, you already had a crush on him!”

“I’m stupid for agreeing to do this, right?” you ask with panic all over your face. “Because this is now making it all worse, Noor! I can’t stop thinking about him!”

“Okay, no need to lose our shit right now. Everything is fine.” She changes from excited to supportive in an instant and that’s exactly what you need right now. She is about to continue with her peptalk when a way too familiar voice calls out your name. Turning to the side you spot Harry jogging over to you.

“Hey!” he smiles at you, then he offers a nod to Noor too, but his gaze quickly returns to you. He is already wearing his undergarments and there is something in his hands that looks like a clothing item. 

“Hi,” you breathe out. 

“Glad you two could make it. Here, I wanted to give this to you.” He hands you whatever in his hand and that’s when you realize it’s a jersey. 

With his name and number on it. 

“Girlfriends usually wear their boyfriends’ jerseys at games and I thought… You don’t have to put it on, if you don’t want to,” he quickly adds as you hold the jersey up in front of you. Your heart practically somersaults in your chest. 

“No, I want to,” you answer maybe a little too quickly, fingers tightening around the fabric. Harry’s expression softens instantly, pleased by your answer. 

“Good,” he smiles. “Thought you’d look cute in it.” 

Beside you, Noor makes a strangled noise that suspiciously sounds like her trying not to scream. You shoot her a warning look before turning back to Harry. 

“Thank you. And for the tickets as well.”

“Of course. I’ll see you in there, then,” he nods with a smile and there is a second of hesitation, like he wants to do something else. Maybe hug you? Kiss you?

But then, someone calls out for him.

“Styles! Coach is looking for you!”

“Coming!” he shouts back. “Gotta go, but I’ll see after, right? At the party?”

“Sure,” you nod smiling. Then Harry suddenly leans in and presses a quick kiss to your cheek before jogging back inside. 

“Oh my God, you are so down for that guy,” Noor scoffs, snapping you out of your trance. 

“Just shut up,” you moan, shaking your head. “Let’s get inside.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re sitting in the packed arena wearing Harry’s jersey over your clothes while Noor is talking your ear off.

“No, for real, he knows I know it’s fake, right? Why would he kiss your cheek in front of me if it’s not because he is into you?”

“Others were around as well!”

“No one was paying attention. That kiss happened because he wanted it to happen, I’m telling you!”

“Can we just close this for now?” you let out a tired sigh. The last thing you need is false hope. 

“Okay, okay. Sorry,” she mumbles, bumping her shoulder against yours.

With only minutes until the game starts the seats are almost entirely filled up and a guy takes the one beside you, almost spilling his drink on you.

“Woah, sorry. These cups are way too big,” he chuckles.

“It’s alright.”

“Hey, you’re… Y/N, right?” he asks and that’s when you actually look at him. “I’m Niall, we had Intro to Psychology together last semester.”

“Oh!” your face lits up finally recognizing him. “Hi! Yeah, I remember. You were the one who argued with the professor about Freud’s significance.”

“Yup,” he grins. “She almost failed me for that one.”

“I mean, you did call her Freud’s fangirl, so…”

You both laugh at that just when the teams finally make their appearance on the ice. The entire arena erupts into cheers so loud you feel it vibrate through your chest. The players skate onto the ice one by one and it’s no surprise your eyes instantly search for Harry. You spot him easily, not just because you know what number to look for from the jersey you are wearing, but because your gaze seems to be naturally gravitating towards him. Not much can be seen from him, his gear and helmet covers most of him, but the eyes are still there.

And they find you pretty easily as well. 

His gaze jumps down to your jersey and though you’re not entirely sure, but it seems like he is smiling at the sight of you wearing it. You allow yourself a tiny wave in his direction which he acknowledges with a nod before focusing his attention back at the ice. 

“Spotting you in the crowd, huh?” Noor teases you, but you just poke your elbow into her side, making her laugh. 

The game starts before she can continue torturing you and thankfully, hockey turns out to be way more entertaining than you expected. Fast, aggressive, chaotic. Every time someone slams another player into the wall, the crowd loses their minds.

You end up talking quite a lot with Niall, he gladly helps you out when you and Noor have questions about the rules or what’s happening on the ice. He is explaining something one of the referees just did when Harry skates past you and his head turns sharply in your direction. 

The movement is not that dramatic, probably no one really noticed it, but you did, since you’ve been very focused on him during the game. His eyes flick between you and Niall for half a second before he’s skating away again.

For a minute you wonder what that was about, but then the game continues and your thoughts get occupied. 

Even though you’re definitely not a pro in hockey, you can tell that Harry is playing exceptionally well. He is fast and skilled, can easily sweep right past the other players and score like it’s second nature to him. It’s kind of mesmerizing, seeing him in his element. 

The third time he scored during the game the whole arena explodes. You jump up instinctively with everyone else, cheering loudly while Harry’s teammates crash into him against the glass, celebrating like mad men. Then Harry looks up, his eyes finding you instantly and he points at you with a wink. A happy laughter bubbles from your throat, your heart practically jumping out of your chest. 

“That was fucking romantic,” Noor squeals next to you, but you just ignore her. 

Even when Harry starts to linger more and more on your side of the rink, eyes sweeping over you every time he skates by. Once, he even skates close enough to tap his stick lightly against the glass in front of you. Niall laughs beside you.

“I’m guessing he is your boyfriend.”

“Um, yeah,” you breathe out a chuckle.

“He is making sure everyone knows it.”

Heat rushes into your cheeks immediately.

By the third period, your team is leading and the arena is electric with excitement. Everyone’s on their feet during the last minute on the clock. The game tightens even in the last seconds, but when the buzzer goes off your team is the winner. The players yell and slam into each other while the crowd screams loud enough to deafen you. Noor grabs your shoulders, shaking you excitedly while Niall high-fives everyone within reach.

And then, through the chaos, Harry’s eyes land on you again and before you could even realize what’s happening he is skating over to you. 

“Oh shit, this is gonna be good!” Noor laughs, but you kinda tune her out as Harry stops by the boards right in front of you. 

Pulling his helmet off he taps on the glass, motioning for you to come to the side where there’s no glass. With a hammering heart, you climb out and meet him at the side. His curls are sweaty and sticking in all directions, but he still looks so fucking good your knees almost give up. 

“Made sure your first game is a winner,” he grins, leaning onto the board in front of you. 

“So you scored for me?”

“Who else?” he shrugs cheekily. 

Suddenly, you become more aware of your surroundings and the chanting that’s getting louder around you. 

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” people demand, watching the two of you. 

You let out a nervous chuckle, your heart is pounding so hard in your chest you’re afraid you might faint any moment. Your first thought is that it is about to get real awkward, because there’s no way Harry will kiss you. There’s no rule about how far you’re willing to go in this fake relationship, but you figured kissing is way over the line. 

Well, you were wrong. 

Because when you look back at Harry he is smirking at you in such a charming way, then he reaches over the barrier, grabs your waist firmly and pulls you against the board that separates the two of you. The crowd is absolutely losing it and before you could even realize what is about to happen, he is kissing you. 

It’s rough, he is sweaty and still in his hockey gear, the board is hard against your hips, but it’s also the most toe-curling kiss you’ve ever experienced. His lips move so in sync with yours, there’s hunger and passion, but it’s also exploratory. The cheering intensifies around you, which is pretty fortunate since you let out a moan when his tongue swipes into your mouth. 

And then he pulls back. All you see is his victorious grin as he pushes himself back from the board.

“See you at the after party,” he winks and then skates away, leaving you in a fucking puddle after the most perfect kiss ever. 

***

The after party is already fully raging when you and Noor arrive. You dropped by the dorm to get changed after the game, though you actually thought about staying in the jersey Harry gave you. 

Your mind has been an absolute mess since the kiss. It simply altered your whole brain chemistry and now you can’t think of anything else. The rational part of your brain keeps reminding you that it was all just for the show, but then you always end up thinking about how passionate it was, like he truly meant it. It’s a complete war in your mind. 

By the time you arrive at the party you’re actually thinking about ending the whole fake dating thing, because if this is what one kiss causes, you’d get totally ruined if you kept going. There’s no way you can get through another kiss like that without falling for him entirely, so it’s better if you just go back to how everything was before. 

But your decision flies right out the window the moment you meet Harry again. 

He is in the kitchen when Noor and you walk in, his teammates surrounding him as he casually leans against the counter. His hair looks a tad bit damp, probably from his post-game shower, he is wearing a simple gray hoodie and black jeans, but still manages to look so fucking hot you can’t look away from him. 

When he sees you, his whole face lights up and as soon as you’re within his reach his hands grab your hips, he pulls you closer and makes you stand right in front of him, with your back pressed against his hard chest, his hands remaining on your hips. His scent fills your nose, it’s fresh and a little spicy and suddenly, you completely forget about your intention to fake breakup with your fake boyfriend.

“Hi,” he murmurs into your ear. “Thought you might bail on me.”

“Did you really?” you ask quietly, craning your neck to look at him. His eyes are mesmerizing and there’s a cheeky glint in them tonight. 

“No,” he smirks. “I know you’d never.”

You completely melt in his arms, leaning against him gladly as you ditch any plan to end whatever is between the two of you. Some selfishness couldn’t hurt, right?

Right. 

***

You’re getting drunk on Harry. And quite some booze too. Probably it’s more the booze, but whatever. 

The boys’ win kind of got you in a buzz too and couldn’t refuse a couple of shots, getting you tipsy pretty fast since you didn’t have time to have dinner. 

Harry has been by your side all evening, sipping on just soda. When you asked why he is not drinking, he just shrugged and said his high from the winning is enough for him. You didn’t push him. 

When Noor convinces you (quite easily) to take another shot with her you really start to feel just how much you’ve had so far. 

“Woah,” Harry chuckles, when you lose balance as someone brushes past you a bit more forcefully, but he is quick to steady you with his hands on your waist. “Have you eaten, Y/N?” he asks, but there’s nothing accusatory in his tone, his eyes are still smiling. 

“Um, not really,” you admit giggling. 

“That explains a lot,” he smiles, hands still on your waist. Your skin feels like burning underneath his touch. “Why don’t we find something for you? I think I saw pizza boxes in the kitchen.”

“Oh! Pizza! Yummy!” you beam, making him laugh before he starts steering you in the direction of the kitchen. 

A few minutes later you are sitting in a window sill with three slices of pizza stacked onto a paper plate in your hand. 

“You want some?” you ask, holding a slice out for Harry while chewing on your last bite. He huffs out a laugh, leans closer and takes a bite while holding eye-contact, definitely igniting something in your tummy. 

“So did you enjoy the game?” he asks, leaning against the wall next to you. 

“Yeah. Now I kinda know why girls enjoy watching the boy aquarium.”

“The what?” he starts laughing. 

“Boy aquarium,” you repeat grinning. “I think it’s a good name for it.”

“Wow, haven’t heard that one, but okay. Then maybe you should come to more games.”

“Mm. What about when we fake breakup?” you huff out a chuckle, busying yourself with the slice in your hand. Thinking about the time when you possibly won’t spend this much time with him kind of scares and saddens you. You’ve gotten used to being so close to him way too easily. 

“You are always welcome. Fake dating or not,” he says with a soft smile. 

“Careful,” you tease softly to cover up the way your pulse suddenly spikes. “You’re sounding very attached to me.” 

The corners of his mouth curve slightly.

“Mm wouldn’t want that, right?” he asks, but his smiling eyes are saying something else and it’s making your heart flutter. 

Before you could react something, a voice cuts the moment short.

“Styles! There you are.” 

Two hockey guys appear near the kitchen entrance carrying drinks. One of them grins when he spots you tucked into the windowsill beside Harry. 

“Ah, didn’t mean to interrupt the lovebirds,” the shorter one grins. 

“But you kinda did,” Harry shakes his head, chuckling. 

“Sorry man, it’s still kinda new that you have a girl now,” the taller one shrugs laughing and you just grin into your pizza, ignoring the way the butterflies in your stomach started dancing at being called his girls. 

“Well, get used to it,” Harry simply answers, his eyes searching yours with a soft look. 

“Yeah, I guess you were the one to change her stats,” a guy from behind snorts, inserting himself into the conversation and at his comment the mood changes instantly. Harry tenses beside you, a hand coming to rest on your knee, but it feels like he needs the touch to ground himself this time. 

The guy who made the comment just smirks into his drink like he said the funniest thing in the world, but no one is laughing and you pretty much feel like a glass of ice cold water was dumped into your face. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Harry says flatly. 

The guy lifts his hands innocently. “Relax, man. I’m joking.” 

“No, you’re being a dick,” Harry shoots back immediately. You stare at him in surprise. There’s no teasing in his voice anymore, none of the usual easygoing charm. He actually looks angry. 

“C’mon,” the guy laughs awkwardly. “You know what I mean. The whole campus has been talking about her confession for days, guys have been competing to get her attention and then she ends up dating you all of a sudden. Must have given her one hell of a good time.”

“None of your business,” Harry spats. “Nothing ever gives you the right to talk about a woman like that. So what’s your point exactly?” he asks coldly with a deathstare. 

“Jesus, I was just joking,” he mumbles, already turning around to walk away, but Harry takes a step ahead to speak his mind before the guy goes.

“Stop reducing women to stupid challenges and games. And for the record,” he continues sharply, “I’m dating her because I like her. Not because I’m trying to win some disgusting competition you all made up in your heads.” 

Someone whistles as the guy disappears in defeat and Harry returns to your side, replacing his hand onto your leg. When he looks at you, he gives your thigh a gentle squeeze.

“Are you alright?”

With the leftover pizza still in your hands, you’re just staring at him with wide eyes, nodding shortly. He just went all protective boyfriend over a stupid comment which was unbelievably sweet and unexpected, but on the other hand that one tiny comment put an unwanted thought into the back of your mind. 

What if the guy was right and this was just Harry’s way of wanting to get closer to you? It feels impossible, Harry would never do such an awful thing, but your rather drunk conscience is playing a dirty game with you. 

“Um, I’m gonna need another drink,” you mumble, hopping off the sill. You feel Harry’s worrying gaze glued to the side of your head as you walk back into the kitchen and grab the first bottle you find. 

If the fake dating wasn’t putting you in enough stress, now you have something new to spiral about: a possible ulterior motive behind why Harry wanted to do the fake dating. So with an enthusiastic swig you try to tune the voices out in your head with the alcohol. 

About twenty minutes and another shot later you are fully wasted and a mess. You’re seeing double and your legs keep giving up underneath you.

“Hey,” Harry softly murmurs, gathering you in his arms. “Let’s get you home, okay? You seem tired.”

“I am tired,” you draw the words out with a sigh and let him walk you towards the door. “Wait,” you gasp, stopping in your tracks. “Gotta tell Noor I’m leaving.”

“Already told her, don’t worry. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“Drive?” you ask with a puzzled look, but let him steer you out of the house. “Haven’t you been drinking?”

“No,” he chuckles softly. “Only soda.”

Somehow you make it to Harry’s car without tripping, he helps you inside and even buckles you in. 

“Thank you, Harry. You are sooooo awesome,” you sigh, eyes fluttering closed. He just chuckles softly before closing your door and walking over to the driver seat. 

The drive home is kind of a blur, you’re drifting in and out of sleep, occasionally mumbling something to Harry who patiently tries his best to react every time. Arriving at the dorm he gently helps you out of the car and circles an arm around your waist to help you make the walk up to your room. 

“Ah, thank you, Harry,” you moan as soon as you fall into bed. 

“You’re welcome. Did you have a good time?” he asks and starts pulling your shoes off.

“Yeah. Right until that douche said those things,” you groan at the memory. 

“Sorry about that.”

You hum, mind cloudy from sleep and alcohol and you end up saying out loud the thought that circles your head.

“You know, if you really just wanted to… could have just asked me.” 

Harry furrows his eyebrows, sitting beside you on the mattress.

“What are you talking about?”

“My stats,” you scoff. “If you just wanted to be the one changing it, you could have just asked. I’ve been… I’ve been having the fattest crush on you, I would have said yes.” You snort out a laugh, eyes closing as you’re already falling asleep. You vaguely feel Harry’s gentle touch on your cheek as he stands from beside you.

“Get some sleep, we can talk about that tomorrow,” he says, though his voice sounds from far away. Somewhere, the door clicks closed and you’re already asleep. 

***

Sunlight is beaming right into your face through the window. Have you forgotten to close the curtains? That never really happens. 

Groaning, you turn to your other side so the brightness is not directed at your face, but just a couple of seconds later, as your mind slowly wakes from the slumber, you realize why the curtains are not closed.

Because you were brought home last night by Harry, totally drunk.

“Oh my God.” 

You bolt upright in bed so fast you instantly regret it. Pain shoots through your head and you groan, dropping back against the pillows dramatically. 

Fragments from last night start returning one by one like little nightmares. The game, the kiss. Then the party, getting wasted, Harry standing up for you, then bringing you home and… What you told him about having a crush on him. 

Your stomach drops, maybe from the hangover, maybe from the humiliation, who knows?

“No. No, no, no, no…” 

From the other bed you hear Noor grunting. 

“It’s way too early for a life crisis and I’m way too hungover.”

“I’m literally dying. Sorry for being inconvenient,” you groan, sitting up again in bed, this time slower so your head doesn't bust immediately. “I told Harry I have a crush on him.”

Noor turns to you in bed, slowly realizing the weight of the situation. 

“And if that’s not mortifying enough,” you continue, “I told him, if he just wanted to sleep with me to change my stats, he could have just asked me.”

“Holy shit,” Noor blinks at you with wide eyes. “No, like actually holy shit,” she repeats, pushing herself up against the headboard despite looking half dead herself. “What did he say?” 

“I don’t know!” you cry, pressing your fists into your eyes, rubbing them violently. “I was literally falling asleep mid-confession.” 

“And what are you gonna do now?”

With a painful sigh, you shake your head, trying to come up with a plan, but nothing comes to your mind. 

“I need to talk to him.” 

“And what are you going to say? Sorry I told you I have a crush on you and want to have sex with you, are we still fake dating?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, dragging yourself out of bed. “But I have to talk to him.”

A little over twenty minutes later you’re standing in front of Harry’s room in another dorm building, wearing a random hoodie and no makeup, looking and feeling like shit. For a solid ten seconds you just stare at the door, debating whether you should turn around and fake your own death instead. Then finally you get yourself to raise a fist, but just when you’re about to knock the door opens and you find yourself in front of Harry himself, dressed in what looks like a running set. 

“Hey,” he beams happily upon seeing you. Your stomach twists.

“Hi. Can we… um, can we talk?”

“Sure,” he nods, stepping back so you can walk into his room. 

He is one lucky bastard for having a room to himself. It’s pretty tidy and organized, smells like his cologne that you love so much. If you weren’t about to have the most awkward conversation of your life you’d definitely start snooping around, checking out everything and anything, but now is not the time for that unfortunately. 

Turning around you face him and his usual confidence, he is wearing a soft, almost teasing smile and you’d kill to know what’s going on in his mind right now.

“So… I just wanted to talk about last night. First of all, I’m sorry I got so drunk you had to drag me home.”

“Happens to all of us,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, but not everyone confesses to having a crush on their fake boyfriend,” you add with an awkward laugh, hoping to ease your nerves with the joking, though it’s not helping. “I’m really sorry about that. And also about… Implying that you did this whole thing just to change my stats and I’m also very, very sorry for saying I would have just slept with you if you asked. I-I was drunk, saying out loud everything on my mind, I understand if this is very awkward for you now and you want to never talk to me again, because I–”

Your rambling is cut by Harry stepping closer and holding his hands up to stop you from apologizing some more. 

“Y/N, there’s nothing to apologize for,” he calmly says.

“Oh but there is,” you laugh bitterly, hoping the floor would just open and swallow you so you wouldn’t have to keep having this conversation. “I’m so sorry for throwing all that on you. You’ve been nothing but kind and supportive, helping me out with this whole situation and then I just dump all that on you.”

“I didn’t mind it, really,” he smirks with mischief in his eyes. 

“Well, you do have something to kinda blackmail me with, so…” A breathless laugh rolls out of you, unsure what else to say.

“Hm, that’s an interesting idea, but no, I won’t be doing that.”

“Okay, so… can we pretend I said nothing? I promise I won’t make it awkward, I just really want things to be like before.”

Harry stares back at you with an unreadable expression before shaking his head.

“No.”

“No?” you ask surprised. “Okay, then–”

“I don’t want things to be like before.” Confusion just keeps building up in you, because he is saying that, but his face is telling you something different. “Remember how you asked why I wanted to do this whole fake dating thing?”

You nod, swallowing hard. 

“I lied to you.”

“You did?” 

“Yep,” he nods with an almost proud smirk as he slowly starts walking closer to you, lessening the distance between the two of you. “I made up this whole fake dating thing to be with you.”

For a second you’re convinced it’s just the hangover, making you imagine things, but then you realize that he actually said that. 

“Wait, what?” you laugh in disbelief.

“You’ve not been the only one having a crush,” he admits with a gentle chuckle, stopping only an inch away from you. “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to spend more time with you, making a move, but I wasn’t sure if you were open to that so then I came up with this ridiculous suggestion to fake date just so I could selfishly spend more time with you.”

“Are you pranking me? Getting back at me for getting way too drunk last night?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him, but he just shakes his head chuckling, his hands sneaking their way to your waist as he pulls you closer, closing the gap between the two of you. 

“No. I truly wanted to help you with your situation, but I also wanted to be with you. I was willing to go through with this fake dating plan just to be with you. Kinda ridiculous, I know.”

“No, that’s…” you shake your head, something already melting in you as your hands slide up his arms to rest on his shoulders. “That’s kind of romantic, actually,” you admit chuckling. “So… you weren’t faking?”

“Not really.”

“The touches, the texts, the late night talks… they were all real for you as well? Because they were definitely real for me.” “Absolutely,” he nods confidently.

“And… the kiss at the game?”

He bites into his bottom lip, looking away almost embarrassed before he speaks up.

“I saw you talking to that guy and I got jealous. I wanted to show him that you’re taken. That definitely wasn’t fake on my end.”

Your mind is blown. Every single interaction you’ve had since his proposal is now playing in your head, but in a whole new light. The touches, the gestures, the looks, the constant texting and that damn jersey he gave you before the game, it’s all clicking into place now. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, making him laugh. “Are we really just two idiots?”

“Massive idiots,” he nods, grinning. “I feel like it’s time for us to fake breakup and get together for real,” he suggests, resting his forehead against yours. Your heart is hammering against your ribs and as you slip a hand down over his, you can feel how wildly his is pounding under your touch. You smile, wide and relieved before nodding.

“Please,” you breathe out and his lips are already crashing against yours. 

***

Another winning game, another celebratory party. The boys have been going wild about this one, since it was their last game of the season and they reached an exceptional rank in the league this year. 

The house is packed, the music is loud and booze is everywhere, though you’re not drinking more than three drinks tonight, a rule you made after that initial party a few months ago when Harry had to take you home and you made some drunk confessions. Even if those confessions led to you and him finally getting together, you’re not interested in making a fool out of yourself. 

You’re sitting with the girls on the couches in the corner of the living room, Georgia sharing her latest disastrous dating experience as you all chime in with your own stories. You’re listening too, though your eyes keep wandering to a certain hockey player across the room, standing by the beerpong table. 

Harry’s glance keeps returning to you as well, exchanging smiles and he occasionally winking at you, making your pulse quicken even after months of dating, he still has that effect on you. It’s hard to believe you once questioned if you even had a shot with him, the guy is absolutely smitten about you and the same goes for you too. 

“Okay, stop with the eye-fucking! We are talking about bad experiences, you’re ruining the mood!” Georgia calls you out rolling her eyes, though she is smirking, obviously happy for you.

“Sorry! I’m just way too happy to think about all the shit from before,” you chuckle with a shrug, taking a sip from your drink. 

“Wait, there is something I’m really curious about,” Larissa leans in closer with a cheeky smirk. 

“I thought we’ve been over this, my stats have changed!” you answer with a dramatic sigh, making everyone laugh, but Larissa shakes her head.

“No. I need to know what he did differently than the others. What was it that you needed?”

“Girl, you always want to know the dirty deets,” Noor shakes her head chuckling. 

“Of course I do! Look at her, she is glowing!” Larissa answers pointing at you. “You have to share it with the class!”

All the other girls start chiming in, agreeing that they absolutely need to know. With a longing look your gaze settles on Harry again and as if he could sense your stare, he looks right back at you, a soft smile tugging on his lips. 

“You alright?” he mouths from across the room and you just nod with a gentle smile before turning back to the girls that are all waiting for you to answer.

“I needed… him. That’s what was missing. I just needed Harry.”