#{bri}

From the moment she started dating him, it became clear: Harry was addicted to touch. Hand-holding, hugs from behind, pulling her into his lap, resting his chin on her shoulder, playing with her hair , he did it all without thinking, like it was second nature.

At first, she’d found it funny. Then cute. Now, months into their relationship, it had become comforting — grounding, even. She knew exactly where she stood with him, because he always made it obvious. He didn’t just say he loved her; he showed it with every brush of his fingers, every casual cuddle, every time he reached for her across the couch or leaned into her laugh like it kept him alive.

So yeah, maybe he was a little clingy. But she loved it.

Unfortunately, not everyone did.

“Mate,” Simon groaned one afternoon in the Sidemen house, “do you have to be all over her while we’re filming?”

They were halfway through a “Sidemen Try Not to Laugh” challenge. Y/N had been invited to join, which wasn’t unusual these days — the boys loved her, and fans adored when she popped in. But Harry hadn’t let go of her since she’d walked into the room.

Now, sitting on the couch between Simon and Vik, Harry had one arm around Y/N’s shoulders and the other tangled with her fingers in his lap. He kept brushing his nose against her temple between clips like a content cat. She hadn’t said anything, but the others clearly noticed.

“She’s not a damn teddy bear, bro,” JJ snorted.

“Give the poor girl some air,” Ethan teased from behind the camera. “What if she needs to breathe or something?”

Harry blinked, taken aback. “What? She doesn’t mind.”

All eyes turned to Y/N.

She opened her mouth to speak — but then hesitated.

Did she mind?

No… but now that they’d pointed it out, it was a little distracting. Not annoying, but… she hadn’t really thought about how much he did it until someone else brought it up.

“I don’t mind,” she said honestly, squeezing Harry’s hand. “But maybe just — like — a little less during filming?”

Harry’s face fell just slightly. He nodded and shifted away a bit, his arm slipping from her shoulder.

The shoot carried on.

But something between them shifted too.

Over the next few days, it became impossible not to notice how different Harry was acting.

Not distant exactly — but… cautious. Like he was trying to be aware of every movement.

He still held her hand occasionally, but he let go more quickly. He didn’t pull her into his lap when they were watching movies. He didn’t reach for her while making coffee or casually sling his arms around her waist when she stood next to him in the kitchen.

He stopped playing with her fingers while they sat on the couch. Stopped curling into her when they were lying in bed.

And the worst part?

She didn’t realize how much she missed it until it was gone.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked one night, curling into the far side of his bed. They were in his flat, curled under the duvet, and she hadn’t been able to fall asleep. He’d kept his distance all evening, and it was driving her insane.

Harry blinked at her from the other side of the mattress, confusion written across his face. “What? No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“You’re acting different,” she murmured. “You’ve barely touched me in days.”

Harry's brows furrowed. “I thought… you wanted that.”

She sat up. “What?”

He pushed himself upright, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean — the boys called me clingy. And you didn’t exactly disagree.”

“I said maybe ease off during filming. That’s not the same as saying I don’t like it when you touch me.”

He looked genuinely stunned. “But I thought it was too much. That I was suffocating you.”

She softened. “Harry. You’re not suffocating me. Honestly, when you stopped, I realized how much I miss it.”

He opened his mouth — then paused. “Wait. So… you like it? When I do all that?”

She nodded and crawled over to him, climbing into his lap the way he usually did with her. “I love it. I love you. I didn’t realize how much I relied on it — how much it made me feel safe. You’re not clingy. You’re affectionate. And that’s not a bad thing.”

Harry blinked several times. “So I can go back to being a koala?”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yes, you absolute dork.”

He tackled her onto the pillows with a grin, pressing kisses all over her cheeks, forehead, and jaw.

“Thank God,” he mumbled between kisses. “I was dying over here.”

She giggled. “You dramatic, dramatic man.”

“Oi, shut up. I’ve been touch-starved for like a week.”

She held him tighter. “Never again.”

They lay there tangled together, warm and content.

He sighed against her skin, voice low. “Next time the boys say I’m clingy, I’m telling them to piss off.”

She smiled, brushing her fingers through his hair. “Good.”

The next time she joined them for a shoot, Harry didn’t hesitate to pull her close on the couch.

And when Simon raised an eyebrow, Harry just kissed her cheek and muttered, “Jealousy’s not a good look, Minter.”

Y/N burst out laughing. So did the others.

Harry winked at her.

She squeezed his hand.

Clingy? Maybe.

Perfect? Absolutely.

Word Count: 3742

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