Nat King Cole

“Y/N?” he calls out, but you just take a deep breath and clench your jaw, not willing to talk to him, not after how he acted today. “We literally have three more hours of the drive home, are you really not gonna say a single word?”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” you grumble.

“Oh, she speaks!” he teases, but you’re definitely not in the mood to laugh. 

The snow is falling heavily outside, everything is covered in thick white layers as far as you can see. Normally you’d be in awe of the sight, but now you’re just way too furious to appreciate it. 

“Y/N, you can’t act like a grumpy kid forever.”

“Actually, yes. Yes I can, because you acted like a total child in there, Styles.”

“A child?” he huffs.

“Yes!” you groan in frustration. “It’s not enough that we had to come out to show this house on the fucking twenty-fourth and my car broke down so we’ve been locked together all day, you acted like a total jerk at the showing, like you didn’t even want your client to buy my house!”

Today has been a complete disaster that started with your car. You hoped that wasn’t setting the tone for the rest of the day and tried your best to stay positive, but the universe had a different plan for you. You’ve had this mountain house listed for a while now and Harry said one of his clients are interested in it. According to the information he gave you the place is a total match for the guy. Unfortunately you could only arrange the showing for the twenty-fourth, right before the client flew home and you were willing to make it work in hopes of finally getting an offer for the house. But upon arriving Harry started acting like a total jerk. 

A bickering, snarky Styles is nothing new, that’s his usual, or at least with you. The two of you have been kind of enemies since you started at the agency two years ago, but you always thought it was just envy. Before your arrival Harry was the star real estate agent in the office with the highest numbers, but your arrival was a challenge for him. You even thought some rivalry could be useful to push you both even more in the business, but today was different. 

Once I started showing Paul, his client around Harry became an evil little elf, dropping mean comments and tricky questions one after the other, which really pushed your buttons, but you remained calm and collected. However when he started to make it seem like you’re unprofessional, like you’re not good at your job, that was the triggering point for you. 

You have no idea how much Paul noticed from this, but he had to be blind to be totally oblivious of the scene that happened right in front of him. Harry basically tried to blow the business which is ridiculous, because it did not only cost money to you, but him as well. 

And let’s not talk about the time wasted on driving up almost four hours to the house just to act like a total douchebag and then pretend like nothing actually happened. 

“I wasn’t acting like a jerk,” he huffs, but it makes you laugh.

“Oh, you were. Bigger than ever. I’m just confused why it was worth for you to come up here and waste the day and blow the business. Paul seemed actually interested in the house in the beginning, right before you started shittalking.”

Harry frowns, but doesn’t reply, which is odd. He always has a snarky comeback. His hold on the wheel tightens for a moment before he relaxes his muscles. He is acting weird today and you have no idea why. 

Twenty minutes go by in almost painful silence and the snowing gets even heavier. It’s hard to see the road or anything at all around the car and it’s getting dark too. The worry truly settles in you when the car slips a bit in one of the turns, making your heart jump into your throat. 

“Shit,” Harry curses and then stop the car on the edge of the road. “I hate to say this, but I don’t think we should be driving in this weather.”

“It’s fucking Christmas Eve! I’m not spending it in a car with you!” 

Harry sighs in defeat and closes his eyes for a moment before grabbing his phone. He taps on it for a while and then looks up at you hesitantly.

“There’s a bed&breakfast nearby. Let’s check if they have any rooms available.”

You want to protest and tell him there’s no way you’re spending Christmas Eve with him somewhere in the middle of nowhere, but then the wind picks up and the car actuall starts moving from the force of it. There’s no way you get home safely like this. 

“I swear to God, if there is just one room with one bed, I’m jumping out of the window. We are not doing that trope.”

But you are. 

Because when you arrive to the tiny, but charming inn ten minutes later, Clementine, the sweet old lady who owns the place announces that she only has one room left with a queen sized bed. 

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment. 

“Ah, this place is very popular this time of the year, because we’re only five minutes away from some of the most beautiful forest trails of Eroda that turn into a magical winter wonderland this time of the year,” Clementine explains in excitement. “But we had a cancellation, so you can take that room.”

You look out the window and watch the heavy snowing for a moment before sighing in defeat. 

“We’ll take it.”

The room is cozy and welcoming, you’d actually enjoy staying here if you didn’t have to share that small bed with Harry. It’s actually funny, because when you started at the agency you actually had a crush on him. He is tall, handsome and has great charisma, so Y/N from two years ago would have been kinda excited to sleep in a bed with him. Then as you got to work together you realized he must not want anything from you, other than the rivalry that started, so you put your little crush to a box and pushed it into the back of your mind and after the way he acted today you want nothing less than to share this bed with him. 

Unfortunately, the room doesn’t even have a tub, just a shower, so neither of you can spend the night in the bathroom either, leaving you no other choice than to be sleeping buddies. 

“I can… sleep on the floor, maybe?” he offers, but you just know he would play the victim in the morning when he wakes up with a sore back. 

“No. It’s fine,” you simply say, dropping your bag to the right side of the bed. There’s a knock on the door that’s still open and turning around you find Clementine with a pile of clothes in her hands.

“I have a change of clothes for you guys. Thought you might want to change into something more comfortable. Not the most stylish pieces, but this is all I got.”

“Thank you,” you smile warmly and take the pile from her.

“Dinner is almost ready, feel free to join us downstairs.”

“Thank you, Clementine,” Harry nods at her and with that she walks out and closes the door.

Suddenly, the room feels tiny and even though Harry is standing on the other side of the bed, it’s almost like he is right in front of you. He puts the pile onto the bed and you grab the light pink pieces, assuming they are for you and without a word you lock yourself in the tiny bathroom. 

It does feel great to change out of your suit pants and fancy blouse and Clementine wasn’t joking when she said the clothes are not quite fashionable, but you’re willing to take this hit. You put on the pink, flared sweatpants and the pink floral printed sweater that’s at least two sizes too big and then look at yourself in the mirror. If you had a pair of oldschool glasses on you’d look like you’re straight out of the eighties. With a sigh you wash your face and then head out, only to find Harry in his change of clothes as well. 

It looks like the fits your grandpa used to wear, high-waisted slacks and a very retro looking crewneck that looks oversized as well. He is rolling the sleeves up when you step out of the bathroom, revealing his inked arms and for a moment you can’t help but think about how good he looks even in this grandpa set. 

He looks up at you, eyes scanning over your outfit, the corners of his mouth tip up the slightest and you mirror him, because you two look actually ridiculous. It wasn’t on your bingo card to ever be dressed like an elderly couple with Harry Styles, but here you are. Even despite the harsh conditions you notice how comical this whole situation is. 

“Hungry?” he asks then, tucking his hands into his pockets. You nod and then the two of you head down. 

The inn is pretty small with only a handful of rooms, but you understand why someone would choose to stay here. It’s homey and warm and as every guest gathers around the big dining table, it actually feels like a family dinner. It turns out that Clementine is an excellent cook, the food is amazing and the conversation flows naturally around the table as all the different people share this fine meal. 

Even Harry is kind of delightful, you almost forget about how big of an asshole he was at the showing just hours ago. Your playful banter is back and you’d never admit it to him, but you actually like it.

“Y/N, Harry, how long have you guys been together?” Jane, an older woman asks who is there with her husband, Rick. They hike the trails every year, because that’s where Rick proposed to her thirty years ago. 

Heat crawls up your neck as you almost choke on the mashed potato.

“Oh no, we’re not… We’re not a couple. We’re just coworkers,” you explain and Jane looks genuinely surprised.

“Really? I thought–”

“Jane…” Rick pokes his elbow gently into her side. 

“What? You know I have a good eye for this!”

“For what?” Lenny asks. He is here with his husband, Jake, it’s their first time in the area, apparently at their wedding five years ago they promised to conquer a new place every Christmas and they chose the Eroda trails this year. 

Jane looks at Rick as if she is asking for his permission to answer, her husband just sighs and nods before Jane turns back towards everyone with a smile.

“I’m excellent at noticing hearteyes. It’s like a sixth sense, I always know when two people have more than just friendship between them.”

“Oh, that sounds magical!” Jake claps his hands together. 

“It is. It never failed me,” Jane nods proudly.

“And what did you see in them?” Clementine raises her eyebrows, nodding towards you and Harry. 

“Well,” Jane smirks at you, then her eyes move over to Harry. “I see the hearteyes.”

“In who?” Lenny asks.

“Both of them,” she simply says and now you just want to climb under the table. 

Glancing to the side your eyes meet Harry’s and for a moment you swear you feel something unusual, something… sparkly. 

Clearing your throat you turn back forward. 

“Well, you might be mistaken this time,” you start in a stern voice. “Because we’re not even friends.”

A beat of awkward silence weighs on the table, but then the conversation turns somewhere else and Jane’s comment seems to be forgotten by the time the plates are wiped empty. 

Not by you, however. 

It’s still what you’re thinking about when you’re back in the room after dinner. Unfortunately, Clementine opened some kind of liquor as well and you might have had one too many glasses, so your thoughts wander to places they definitely shouldn’t. 

Like how annoyingly handsome he actually looks. It seems like the alcohol has opened that box where you kept your crush all along and now it’s free. 

The room feels warmer than before, or maybe it’s just the alcohol buzzing through your veins, loosening everything up. You kick your shoes off and wander toward the window, tugging the curtain aside just a bit.

“Oh,” you murmur.

“What?” Harry asks from behind you.

You press your forehead lightly to the glass. Out back, half-buried in snow, sits a small gazebo wrapped in warm white lights. They glow softly against the dark, snowflakes drifting lazily through them like something out of a snow globe.

“There’s a gazebo,” you say, like it’s the most important discovery in the world.

He walks up to the window and stops behind you, but only hums at the sight, seemingly you’re the only one who got excited at it. 

“We should check it out.” You turn to him with a mischievous smile. 

“It’s freezing and still snowing.”

“We’re not gonna stand out there for hours,” you roll your eyes. “Come on, it’ll be fun!” you say and you’re already putting your coat on that looks almost ridiculous with your borrowed pink outfit. You grab Harry’s coat and hold out for him. “Don’t be a chicken, Styles.”

He stares back at you for a moment and then sighs in defeat, taking his coat from you. 

The snow crunches under your feet as you step outside, your warm breath puffing out in white clouds as you cross the backyard towards the little gazebo. 

“You’re gonna slip,” he says when you start skipping.

“I am perfectly capable of walking in a straight line,” you argue, immediately wobbling when your boot catches on uneven ground. A warm hand steadies your elbow before you could smash your face right into the thick snow. 

“What did I tell you?” Harry scolds you. 

You glance up at him, suddenly very aware of how close he is, his touch is light but firm. He lets go almost immediately, like he’s afraid of lingering too long.

The gazebo is even prettier up close. The lights twinkle faintly in the dark night, casting everything in a soft golden glow. Snow has piled up along the railing, untouched. Like a kid, you reach out and scoop some up, the coldness almost burning your palm before dropping the snow onto the ground. 

“This is so magical,” you breathe out in awe, turning around in the middle. “Imagine getting married here.”

Harry snorts behind you.

“Straight to marriage? That was a big jump.”

“I’m just saying,” you shrug. “It has potential.”

“I’m not surprised, actually. You often jump from zero to one hundred.”

You gasp at him. “Rude! I do not.”

“You do,” he chuckles. “You once cried because your coffee was too hot.”

“That was a totally valid emotional response to something terrible.”

He laughs, properly laughs, with his head falling back and shoulders shaking and it spreads warmth in your chest. 

“Harry Styles, I have never seen you laugh like this, what happened? Am I actually funny?” you gasp dramatically.

“Never said you’re not,” he shrugs, smirking. 

“That was almost a compliment.”

“Was it?” He tilts his head, watching you with a boyish smirk that makes him look younger. 

Fuck, he looks so good.

“You know, this is…” you start, but then a yawn interrupts you. “This is actually nice.”

“It is, but let’s head back. It’s really cold.”

“I’m fine,” you protest, words coming out slower than you intend.

“You’re tired,” he says gently. “And tipsy.”

“Mm, just a little, it’s fine,” you shrug.

He steps closer, offering his arm. You hesitate for half a second before taking it, fingers curling around his sleeve.

The walk back feels slower. Harry matches your pace without comment, careful over every step, like he’s treating you as something fragile. When you stumble again, his hand slides to your lower back, steady and warm.

“You okay?” he asks softly.

You nod, but your exhaustion is now obvious to you as well. All you want to do is fall into bed and sleep. 

Harry carefully ushers you into the room and takes your coat off while you kick your boots off. 

“What a gentleman,” you huff out a small laugh. First you sit on the edge of the bed and then just stretch out on the mattress, eyes already closed. 

“Y/N,” he calls out softly, but you can only hum, already half asleep. “Let’s at least… The covers…”

You faintly feel him tug the covers out from under you, then pull them over you, the warmth enveloping you so nicely. 

“Thank you,” you mumble. 

“Good night, Y/N.” His voice sounds clouded as you finally fall asleep. 

***

You wake up feeling somewhat rested, though you can definitely feel a bit of hangover. It’s warm and bright in the room, as you blink your eyes open you immediately look out the window and see that it’s not snowing anymore, there’s not even a cloud in the sky.

The other side of the bed is empty, the bathroom door is closed and you hear the running water, Harry must be showering. As you stay wrapped in the warm sheets, you remember last night in the gazebo. How magical it felt and how nice it actually was with Harry. 

With a smile you feel around for your phone on the night stand and realize that it’s almost fully dead. Sitting up you spot Harry’s phone on the other side, charging, so you crawl over and tap the screen to see if you could steal the cable for a bit. 

You didn’t mean to snoop around, but as the screen lights up you immediately notice a text and before you could stop yourself, you read it. 

Paul: It’s a pity they accepted an offer so fast. That house yesterday was exactly what I was looking for.

Your heart stutters. With the phone in your hand you sit up straight and reread the message, as if you read it wrong the first time, but it’s still the same. The text doesn’t make sense, but it also does. If Paul thinks that an offer has been accepted for the house it means Harry told that to him, but he lied, because there is no offer. 

But why would he do that? Why would he ruin the deal?

The bathroom door opens with a soft click, you haven’t even noticed that the water has stopped. Harry steps out of the bathroom in a fluffy, white robe, hair damp. At first he looks relaxed, he is even smiling, but when he notices his phone in your hand, his face falls.

“What are you doing?” he asks, frozen.

“I wanted to ask the same thing,” you answer. “Why did Paul text you about an accepted offer on the mountain house when there’s no such thing?”

“You can’t just read others’ texts,” he says in a sharp tone. 

“I didn’t go through your phone, just wanted to borrow your charger and the screen lit up. And now I want to know why Paul thinks my house already has an accepted offer.”

He exhales through his nose, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Didn’t you once tell me that a good agent is always transparent with their clients?” you shoot back. “Because this feels like the opposite of that.”

“It’s not… I didn’t do it, it’s just…” he stutters. “I was just trying to protect–”

“Protecting what, Harry?” you interrupt. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you deliberately tanked a deal I’ve been working on for months.”

His jaw tightens. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

A sharp laugh escapes you. “I drove four hours to show that house at least fifteen times. My car broke down. I spent Christmas Eve stuck in a snowstorm with you. And now I find out you lied to your client and made it seem like the place was already gone?”

Rage is taking over you as you kick the covers off and stand up then start pacing the room back and forth.

“Why? Why would you do this?”

Silence stretches between you, thick and uncomfortable. Harry opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, he has no explanation for his actions. 

“Because,” he says finally, voice clipped, “Paul wasn’t right for the house anyway.”

“Oh, please!” you roll your eyes dramatically.

“He wasn’t,” Harry insists. “He would practically bulldoze that place down and take its charm away. That house deserves–”

“That’s not your call!” you snap. “If he wants to buy it and burn it down he can do that! We don’t have a say in that!”

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding through his usual calm. “You don’t get it.”

“Then explain it to me,” you say. “Because right now, I feel like an idiot for ever thinking you were on my side.”

Something in him breaks at that. His rigid, defensive stance cracks and something angry and raw takes over him. 

“Fine,” he snaps. “It’s because Paul was flirting with you the entire time yesterday.”

You blink, completely puzzled. “What?”

“And you didn’t shut it down,” he continues, words tumbling out now. “You laughed. You leaned into it. You seemed to like him.”

“Harry, that’s ridic–”

“And I hated it,” he cuts in, voice rising. “I hated watching it. I hated standing there like I always do, pretending it doesn’t bother me when someone else looks at you like that.”

The room goes quiet.

Harry’s chest rises and falls quickly, like he didn’t mean to say any of this but couldn’t stop himself once it started.

“I was jealous,” he admits, voice lower now, like his rage has run out. “And I know that’s not professional, and I know it wasn’t fair to you. But I couldn’t do it. If I let Paul make an offer I knew the owner would have accepted it, because the house has been on the market for a while now. But that also would have meant that you’d have met up with Paul again, talk about the offer, the paperwork and all that and…” He sighs, his whole body slumps, like he just… gave up. “And knowing Paul he would have surely asked you out if he had the chance.”

Suddenly, it all makes sense. Everything. Not just yesterday and the text, but… every tiny comment and bickering and… Every look and smile and laugh.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll call Paul and tell him there’s no offer, that I messed up and–” He starts, looking everywhere but you and he is already reaching for his phone that’s still in your hands, but you just throw it onto the bed.

“You know I’m always like that?” you cut him off. He finally stops and looks at you.

“What?”

“With clients. I’m always like that. If they flirt with me, I let them. Maybe I shouldn’t lead them on, but if it helps me get a, let’s say, two hundred thousand dollar commission, then I think it’s okay.”

Now Harry is the one looking confused, like he is only slowly putting the picture together and he is not there yet. It almost looks cute on him. 

“If Paul asked me out, I would have nicely turned him down. I don’t date clients and he wasn’t even my type.”

“Oh,” he says softly, like the realization has knocked the wind out of him.

“And besides…” You slowly start walking closer while he stays still, watching your every move until you’re right in front of him. “I kinda have a crush on a coworker.”

You instantly see the spark in his eyes, the hope, the excitement. 

“He is kind of a pain in the ass, acted like a total jerk the other day, but… He is actually kind of funny and charming and I like our dynamic. We call each other out on our shit all the time. It’s kinda… sexy.”

He opens his mouth and you just know he has a witty comeback, but then it’s like he changes his mind and he turns serious. 

“I really hope you’re not talking about Danny from the office, because–”

“Harry,” you cut him off, grabbing the lapels of his robe. “I’m talking about you, and if you don’t kiss me right now I’m gonna throw you out the window.”

The threat barely leaves your lips before he laughs breathlessly. He cups your face with both hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks like he’s grounding himself, and then he kisses you. 

It’s unhurried and deep, nothing like the impulsive, frustrated energy that’s been crackling between you since yesterday. You melt into it immediately, fingers fisting in the soft fabric at his chest as you lean up into him. He hums quietly, a sound that sends a shiver straight down your spine, and when his tongue presses against yours you just know you’re gone and done. 

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“Did that save me from being thrown out the window?” he asks, almost in a whisper.

“Mm, maybe.”

“And should I still call Paul?”

“Oh, for that, you’re gonna have to do more than just kiss me,” you chuckle.

“Gladly,” he breathes out and he is already kissing you again.