#could be lethal

You were so, so late. 

It was half an hour past the time your friends were set to meet at Slim’s, and you hadn’t even left your flat yet. Meredith had texted you twice asking where you were, but you ignored her. 

You and Harry had decided to keep your relationship on the down-low, just for a little while. It wasn’t that you wanted to keep secrets from your friends, you just wanted a little bit of time to adjust to your new normal before having questions fired at you left and right. They were a curious bunch, after all. 

 “Shit,” you heard Harry mutter from your bedroom. You lowered your mascara wand to peek through the doorway, seeing him frowning at his phone. His jeans were unbuttoned, shirt nowhere to be found, and he only had one sock on. “Nick is calling me.”

 “Well, don’t answer!” You laughed. Leaning back towards the bathroom mirror, you continued trying to rush through your makeup. 

 You absolutely hated rushing, but you hadn’t been able to deny Harry’s suggestion that he should join you in the shower. It had been less than a week since you made things official, but you already knew you were in a world of trouble. You’d never be able to say no to him. 

 “I think I have to answer,” he sighed, “this is the third time he’s called me, I’m pretty sure he’s getting worried.”

 “Okay,” you snorted, “but don’t tell him you’re here.”

 “I’ll make something up,” he assured you. 

 Giggles bubbled up in your throat as you listened to him tell Nick that he’d accidentally taken an extra long nap, and that he’d be on his way shortly. He didn’t sound all that convincing, but it would have to do. 

 You hadn’t heard him get off the phone, so you jumped a bit when you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind. You set down the makeup brush you had been using, catching his eye in the mirror. He smiled softly, pressing a little kiss to your shoulder. 

 “You look really nice,” he told you. At first, it seemed innocent, but then he pressed another kiss to your shoulder, and another to your neck. “Like, really nice.”

 You couldn’t help the sigh that blew out of your lips as your head lolled to the side. He was entirely too charming, but you were already late. 

 “We need to finish getting ready,” you managed to breathe. It was always harder to string sentences together when his lips were on you. “You’re not even dressed.”

 He only hummed, closing his eyes as he moved his lips up to your jaw. His hands had moved lower, sliding over your hips and down to the tops of your thighs. You felt like you were on fire. 

 “Harry, please, we need to....” you gulped when his left hand slide just under the hem of your skirt, “we need to go.”

 “Do we?” He teased. “I was thinking maybe we could just… stay here….”

 Temptation crept up your spine, but you pushed it down. The two of you had been stuck together like magnets for the past five days, you should be able to get through one night without being all over each other. 

 “You already, um,” you gulped, feeling Harry’s lips turn up against your skin, “you told Nick you were on your way.”

 He pulled back with a sigh, letting the hand under your skirt fall to his side. You watched in the mirror as he rolled his eyes, resting his chin on your shoulder as you finished up with your makeup. 

 “I don’t know why you’re so stressed about this,” Harry mused, following you as you broke away from him to throw the tube of lipstick into your purse, “it’s just our friends. We see them all the time.”

 He was right, of course, but part of you really needed this night to go well, without a single hiccup. Because of you and your inability to express emotions, your entire friend group had suffered. Things were weird when you and Harry had stopped talking, and it was undoubtedly felt by the lot of them. You just wanted the dynamic to feel easy again.

 “I guess you’re not wrong,” you admitted, “I just hate lying to them. I’m so bad at it.”

 “You are,” he snickered, pulling you into his chest, “it was your idea, though. I personally don’t care if they know.”

 You groaned, twisting out of his arms once again to slip your shoes on. Harry followed suit, kneeling down to lace up his vans. The way he was gazing up at you made you squirm a bit, the concern and admiration he felt for you more apparent than usual. 

 “Babe…” he sighed out, rising to his feet, “you make things so hard for yourself, I swear. You’re always thinking about things that could go wrong. What about the things that have already gone right?”

 You sucked your lips into your mouth, not entirely sure how to respond. Maybe you were a pessimist, maybe it was your anxiety, or maybe it was just the way your brain was wired, but you’d always had a tendency to think of the worst possible scenario. Harry had a point though; there was a fine line between self preservation and self sabotage. Perhaps the world wouldn’t end if you gave your anxious brain a breather and allowed yourself to relax. 

 Getting together with Harry had been hell, but all of the obstacles you’d created were just in your head. Pulling excuses out of thin air was truly your specialty, anything to keep yourself from taking risks, but eventually it had been exhausting holding yourself back from the things you wanted. You didn’t want your anxiety to ruin your happiness anymore. 

 So you took a deep breath, and then you shifted your focus. Sure, it was going to be uncomfortable fielding questions from your rowdy group of friends, but Harry would be sitting right next to you. And he would stay next to you. And he was in front of you, right now, just inches away, loving you. Suddenly, your concerns regarding your friends weren’t worth dwelling on. 

 “That’s true,” you rolled your shoulders, letting go of some tension, “lots of things are going right.”

 “Like what?” He smirked, swiping his car keys off the little table in your foyer.

 “Let’s see,” you said playfully, pretending to be deep in thought as you locked up your flat, “I’ve got a decent job.”

 “That you do,” he agreed, “and?”

 “I quite like my neighborhood,” you remarked, tilting your head, “my flat is small but I’m proud of it.”

 “Okay,” his grin widened, “anything else?”

 He was fishing for compliments, but you refused to give in. He faked offense when you just rolled your eyes, and bumped his hip into yours before tangling his fingers with yours. You walked in hand-in-hand until you reached his car.

 “I’m lucky to have you,” you said quietly as he buckled his seatbelt. He paused, lips pulled up into a sweet smile.

 “Yeah?”

 “Yeah,” you nodded, meeting him halfway as you shared a short kiss, “having you in my life is very, very right.”

 He kissed you quickly once more before settling into his seat, fiddling with the rearview mirror until he was satisfied. He’d let you borrow his car the other day, and made a huge fuss about the way you readjusted his seat. You loved him anyway.

 In fact, you loved him so much, you weren’t sure you were going to be able to hide it. Maybe Harry was right… you were just creating barriers for yourself. How nice would it be if you could slide into the regular booth at Slim’s, next to Harry, and hold his hand? When you were trying to be secretive about your sleepovers, you’d barely even interacted in front of other people, too paranoid that you’d give yourselves away immediately.

 It was a scary thing to be thinking about, especially as you were on your on way there already, so you twisted a knob on Harry’s dash to change the radio station. After a few moments of searching for a song to distract you, you gave up and turned the entire thing off. 

 “Maybe we should just tell them,” you blurted, biting your lip nervously.

 Harry’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at you for just a moment before returning his focus to the road. “We can do whatever you want, babe.”

 “What do you want?” You asked.

 He opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Well, I mean… I get wanting to keep this to ourselves because it’s so… new, you know?” He looked over at you once he was stopped at a red light, a sheepish smile painted over his cheeks. “But at the same time… I’m excited. Like, really excited, and I want to tell my friends. They’ll be excited for us, I know it.”

 Them being excited was what you were afraid of, in a way. You knew your friends well, so you knew that Meredith would ask too many questions, Thomas would say something inappropriate, Grimmy would accidentally talk about it on air, and Jessie would probably just silently sit in the corner. The image you’d created in your head was chaotic and overwhelming. 

 But maybe it wouldn’t be like that. Maybe it was worth finding out. 

 “You’re overthinking, I can tell,” Harry frowned, “listen, like I said, we’ll do whatever you want. Tonight is meant to be fun.”

 “No,” you shook your head, “let’s tell them.”

 “Really? That’s what you want?”

 “Yes.” 

 And you meant it. As terrifying as it would be, keeping more secrets from your friends wasn’t the answer. Plus, they would likely ask a bunch of intrusive questions, anyway. Meredith was nosy long before you ever spent a single night in Harry’s bed. 

Not to mention that Harry was excited, about you. It warmed your heart in a way you’d never felt before, like you were floating and sinking at the same time. He was proud to be able to call you his, and you understood because you felt the same way. If giving them the news about your relationship would make him happy, then it was a no-brainer. His happiness would always win over your fear.

 Your own happiness, too.

Harry ended up being right, of course. The moment the two of you walked through the door together, hands interlocked, the group was ecstatic. 

 “Holy shit!” Nick had shouted, loud enough that people at other tables were looking over. “Fucking finally!”

 Meredith had let out the most grating, nails-on-a-chalkboard squeal, but you’d barely had time to grimace before she was throwing her arms around you. Just like you’d predicted, it was loud, over the top, and even a bit embarrassing… but it was also a celebration. Even though they made a scene, it wasn’t awkward, or overwhelming. They just wanted to support you. 

 And being the center of attention wasn’t as difficult when you had a partner. Harry was more than willing to take the lead on answering questions, allowing you to sit back and just process everything. 

 “Next round is on me,” Jessie announced. Harry had just finished explaining to Thomas that the cuddling had been going on for months. Nick and Meredith hadn’t looked shocked, and Jessie had just looked amused.

 “Cheers, friend,” you smiled, “need help carrying?”

 They nodded at you, so you slid out of your seat, giving Harry’s arm a soft squeeze before making your way to the bar. Jessie caught the attention of the bartender right away, listing off the drink orders that everyone had become familiar with. 

 “How are you doing?” You asked them, leaning your back against the wooden bar. 

 “Me?” They scoffed, mirroring your position. “I should be asking how you are. Last time I saw you, you were a total mess. Well, figuratively. Your apartment was ridiculous, I can literally still smell Clorox.”

 You laughed, shaking your head. “Sorry you had to witness my panic induced cleaning. That talk we had ended up being really helpful.”

 “Good. It sounds like things are going well, then,” they said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “I’m really happy for you.”

 “Thanks,” you rested your head on their shoulder, “I am sorry though, for making things weird for everyone.”

 “Whatever,” Jessie waved a hand through the air, “it’s over now. We just didn’t like seeing the both of you in so much pain, especially when it wasn’t really our place to do anything about it.”

 Just then, the bartender tapped your shoulders, pointing to the six drinks lined up on the counter. You grabbed four while Jessie grabbed two, and together you headed back to the table.

 “Oh good, you’re back,” Meredith said, plucking her drink from your hand, “Harry was just telling us about the time he got blackout drunk at some pub in Hackney, weren’t you Harry?”

 “No,” he said drily, “I wasn’t.”

 You passed him his water, which he promptly took a large gulp of. The woes of being a designated driver.

 This went on for a while longer, and eventually your friends stopped grilling you, satisfied with the information they’d pried out of you. Now, it just felt like a normal night, where everybody chatted and gossipped and caught up. So familiar, that you weren’t even phased when a text from Harry popped up on your lock screen. 

 From: Harry Styles 9:56PM

Are we sleeping at mine tonight?

 “Yeah,” you giggled, locking your phone and glancing up at Harry. He was already looking at you with bright eyes and a gentle smile. 

 He leaned down and quickly pressed his lips to your forehead. “Perfect.”

 Just weeks ago, you were secretly texting under the table and making up excuses to leave at the same time, a stark contrast to tonight, where you both hugged your friends goodbye and left together, hand-in-hand and drama free. It was refreshing to be able to fully relax together, no longer tethered to the weight that comes with keeping a secret. Harry seemed especially carefree tonight, running his hands up and down your sides as he walked behind you, only letting go once you reached his car.

 “I had fun tonight,” he remarked, twisting to look over his shoulder as he reversed from the parking spot. His arm was stretched out behind your headrest, and you had to resist the urge to lean into him.

 “Me too,” you hummed, crossing your legs, “it was nice being able to sit next to you for a change.”

 “I agree,” he nodded, looking straight ahead out the windshield, “although that skirt has been driving me crazy all evening. In this case it might have been easier having you all the way across the table from me.”

 You only giggled, rolling down the car window. You needed some cool air on your skin, which was suddenly feeling flushed all over at the thought of Harry checking you out.

 “I’m not kidding,” his lips were in a straight line, but you knew him well enough to recognize the twinkle in his eye, “that thing is coming off the moment we get home.”

 You soon found out that he was quite serious, pinning you against the door the moment it closed behind you. He pressed the front of his body fully against yours, not a single inch of space between your chests as he dipped down to slot your lips together. 

 You gasped for air when he pulled back, throwing your head back against the door as he slowly dragged his palms down your body, stopping to squeeze the flesh of your hips and finally resting on the curve of your ass.

 “How do you do it?” Harry wondered out loud, bunching the fabric of your skirt in his fists as he pulled it upwards. “It’s like you don’t even try.”

 “Do what?” You breathed, lifting up a leg and looping it around his hip.

 He let out an appreciative grunt, grinding his hips into the flimsy lace of your underwear.

 “Like… you just make me want you so much,” he wheezed, arching back slightly as you fiddled with the fly on his jeans, “you’re not even trying to be sexy, like tonight, just fucking sitting and chatting shit with our mates, I wanted to- oh, fuck me!”

 He let out a shaky breath when you reached inside his boxers, rubbing along his length until you could grasp your fingers around him and tug him free from his boxers. After just a few slow pumps, he was swatting your hands away, pulling the crotch of your panties to the side and pushing into you with a slow buck of his hips. He pushed slowly, in and out, until he was as deep as he could be, and you revelled in the feeling of his hipbones pressed against your pelvis.

 “Good?” He nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck.

 “Mhm,” you managed, sliding a hand up his back under his shirt.

 It wasn’t long before he rendered you a moaning mess, one hand gripping your leg under the knee and the other looped behind the small of your back. He was hitting the deepest, most perfect spots inside of you, and even though the doorknob was digging into your ass, and you still hadn’t taken off your heels, you wouldn’t change a thing.

 He was so good at finding creative ways to fuck you, whether it was a spontanious quickie over the desk in his office, or the slow, sultry sex you’d had in his home studio. It was fun, and exciting, and unique, and you couldn’t get enough.

 His thrusts became faster and harder the moment you reached your hand down to play with your clit. He was watching your fingers like a hawk, not blinking as he watched you pleasure yourself while he fucked into you. Soon enough, your thighs were shaking, cries escaping your mouth as your orgasm thundered through your veins, sending tingles to the tips of your toes and  a warmth throughout your belly.

 Harry followed suit soon after, driving his cock into you once more before spilling inside of you. Neither of you moved, simply standing against the door.

 “You didn’t even take my skirt off,” you eventually broke the silence, dropping your leg. Your hip was definitely going to be sore in the morning. 

 “Would you like me to remove it?” He snickered, digging his fingers into your sides. “I’d be happy to rid you of it, right here, right now.”

 As you and your boyfriend chased each other around the house, teasingly undressing each other as you went, you didn’t spare a single thought on your worries, anxieties, or fears. No, they weren’t even on the radar. 

 Instead, all you could focus on was how unbelievably happy you were right now. 

 You felt high, but this time you weren’t afraid of falling because Harry would be there to catch you. There could be pits of lava, fields of thorns, pointy rocks, rivers full of piranhas… and you’d still take the blind leap if it meant being in his arms. In a way, you’d already been through hell to get here, plagued by your own mind, the most torturous kind of self sabotage. 

 It didn’t matter what the future held. Hypotheticals were no longer important; what mattered was what you had right now, right in front of you. 

 And that was enough.

~~~

~~~

From: Harry Styles 11:24PM

Are we sleeping at mine tonight?

As soon as the text lit up your phone screen, you flipped it face down onto the table. You were currently mashed into the corner of a booth at your favorite bar, trying to pay attention to the story one of your friends was telling to you. Every once in a while, you’d glance up and catch Harry’s stare, which would immediately send a familiar tingle down your spine. 

“Are you listening to me?” Meredith prodded your arm.

“What? Yes, of course,” you lied, nodding enthusiastically. In reality, there was no way you could focus on anything but Harry’s presence just a few short feet away.

You were surprised that he’d texted you. When you’d first shown up to the bar, you’d spotted him chatting up some random petite blonde on the dance floor, and you’d barely looked his way since, hating the way jealousy tugged at your heartstrings. Even now, with the girl nowhere in sight, you were having a difficult time acknowledging him. 

He wasn’t yours to claim, he never had been, but the two of you had started… a routine, for lack of better word. It had started on a night where he offered to drive you home. You’d all been hanging out at Nick’s place, swimming in his pool and drinking chilled wine, and Harry had insisted on giving you a lift since your apartments were so close together. By the time you’d made it to your place, it was dark and he was tired. You offered to let him stay over, which resulted in the two of you cuddling in your twin sized bed.

Nothing else had happened apart from that, but it had felt… good, being that close to another person. Apparently he felt the same way, because more often than not, you wound up drifting off in his arms, sprawled across his chest, listening to his light snores. You hadn’t discussed it at all, but it was starting to affect you in ways you wish it wouldn’t. 

To: Harry Styles 11:29PM

yeah

You saw him subtly check his phone in his lap, twisting the screen away from Thomas, the friend sitting next to him, being just as secretive as you. Your friends didn’t need to know that you cuddled on the regular, I mean, how would you even justify that? You weren’t sleeping together, hadn’t even done so much as kiss. It was just your body against his, and his against yours.

You wondered if he hooked up with other girls on the few nights that you hadn’t been able to meet up. Were the hands that traced circles into your back while you slept running over somebody else’s body? His lips, the same ones that brushed along the back of your neck as he held you from behind, had they pressed against another’s in your absence?

From: Harry Styles 11:30PM

sick :)

You flitted your gaze up to meet his once again, rolling your eyes when you saw the slight smirk on his face. He giggled, covering it up with a cough, before looking away once again. 

“So Harry,” Jessie, one of your friends on the other end of the booth piped up, “saw you flirting with that girl earlier. You gonna take her home?”

This seemed to gather the attention of the group, as everyone quieted to hear his response. Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, looking everywhere but where you were sat. You couldn’t look at him, either, so you stared at your lap instead, picking at a loose thread on your dress. 

“Don’t think so, no,” he choked out.

Thomas let out a groan, throwing his head back in exasperation. “Why not mate? Saw her give you her number. If I had a pretty thing like her interested in me, I’d have already done her three times over in the toilet!”

The group all laughed, and even Harry let out a little chuckle, but you could tell he felt uncomfortable.

“I dunno,” he shrugged with faux nonchalance, “I’ve been working a lot lately, don’t really have the energy for that kind of thing.”

You tried to zone out after that, but it was impossible to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest. You could feel Harry looking at you, but you were still too busy playing with the thread on your dress. You only looked up when your phone buzzed harshly against the wooden surface of the table. 

From: Harry Styles 11:48PM

I’m ready to leave whenever

You felt relief course through you. You liked seeing everyone and catching up, but you liked being alone with him more. You cleared your throat, sliding your phone into your pocket and clutching the strap of your purse closer. 

“Hey guys, I think I’m gonna head out,” you said, putting on your best sad smile as the group groaned and begged you to stay, “I’m just feeling so wiped, was a really long week.”

As you managed to squeeze out of the booth, you made promises to see everyone soon and set up plans. You didn’t feel guilty about bailing so early, especially since you saw this group practically every weekend. 

“Think I’m gonna go, too,” you heard Harry say. Another chorus of groans sounded from the group. “May as well share a car, yeah?”

“Sure,” you nodded, playing it up for the group, “may as well.”

The moment you and Harry stepped outside the bar, it was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. It hadn’t been a complete lie when you’d said that it had been a long week, and really all you wanted to do was curl up under Harry’s arm and close your eyes. 

He was quiet as you waited at the curb, checking his phone every few seconds to see if the car he ordered was any closer. For some reason, you felt awkward standing next to him, which was unusual considering how calm he normally made you feel. You felt like your tongue was made of stone, like you might stutter if you tried to speak. You don’t even know what you’d say anyway. 

Your hands tugged the sides of your jackets tighter together as a bitter wind ripped through the night, forcing you to hunch your back over and clench your teeth together. Harry must have felt it too, because the moment the breeze let up, he shuffled closer to you so your upper arms were pressed together. It was such a simple gesture, but you felt yourself warm up from his thoughtfulness alone. 

When the car finally arrived, Harry guided you in before him with a soft brush of his hand on your waist. You couldn’t wait until it was placed there more firmly, maybe slid up under your shirt to press directly onto your skin, the calluses of his fingertips scratching against you in the most delightful way. You let out a quiet sigh at the thought. 

You worried your lip between your teeth as the car started to move, training your eyes out the window. You only looked over at Harry when he cleared his throat.

“So, um,” he said in a shaky voice, “I’m sorry for what they all said in there.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, cocking your head slightly. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

He seemed taken aback by your question, but you thought it was a fair one to ask. Sure, you’d hated hearing your friends joke about Harry’s sex life, but that was on you, those were your feelings. Harry wasn’t in charge of them. As much as you wished that he was your boyfriend, he wasn’t, and probably never would be. 

“Well, you looked really uncomfortable, I guess…,” he trailed off, “and we’re, like, y’know….”

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times, hands helplessly fluttering in his lap. He clearly had no idea what to say. Maybe he was feeling just as confused as you were. 

“We cuddle sometimes,” you finished for him. 

“Right,” he nodded, “yeah. We cuddle sometimes. And that girl… I only took her number to be nice, honest.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You asked him after a pause, feeling your hands grow clammy. You wiped your palms on your bare legs, wishing you could skip to the part of the night where you were both on the cusp of sleep. 

He let out a sigh, finally turning away to peer out of his window. “I don’t know.”

~~~

You watched with red cheeks as Harry pushed the topsheet away from his bare chest. He was stretching, the kind of stretch that had him groaning, and you just couldn’t tear your eyes away. As soon as he looked your way, you practically broke your neck trying to hide your gawking. 

“You can look, y’know,” he chuckled. You knew without having to look that he had an infuriatingly handsome smirk on his face. “I look at you sometimes, too.”

“Whatever,” you groaned, sliding out from under the covers. You winced when your bare feet hit the cold wooden floor of Harry’s bedroom. “You normally wear a shirt, that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded, “I woke up at like, four in the morning, sweating bullets. You’re like a bloody space heater, you know that?”

With your back still turned to him, you rubbed your eyes harshly. Bright sunlight was leaking into the room through his closed blinds, which meant that you slept later than usual. Typically, you were up before the sun.

“I’ve never heard you complain before,” you mused, padding towards his ensuite bathroom. You heard the rustle of sheets and the creak of the mattress behind you, so you knew that Harry was following you. 

Just as you had a routine for going to sleep, the two of you had a routine for mornings. While nighttime was all about being quiet, soft touches and sleepy sighs, mornings with Harry were full of pep and banter. You’d take your time getting out of bed, reluctantly pulling away from some giggly cuddling, before brushing your teeth together and making breakfast. Sometimes you’d go for a jog or watch part of a movie before going your separate ways. It was perfectly domestic. 

Harry had been your friend for a long time. He wasn’t necessarily your best friend, but he was the easiest for you to read. You got along well. You had good chemistry. That’s what made mornings so easy.

“Never complained before ‘cause I like when you lay on top of me,” he snickered, grabbing his toothbrush from the cup by the sink. You had a toothbrush there too, something Harry hadn’t thought twice about when you started sleeping over. 

“Of course you do,” you rolled your eyes, snatching the toothpaste from his hand before he could use it.

“Yeah, I especially like when you lay on top of me,” he paused, leaning in close to whisper, “when you’re not wearing a bra.”

“Fuck off!” You giggled, your voice garbled from the toothbrush in your mouth. You made eye contact with him in the mirror, snorting when he wiggled his eyebrows. You jokingly brought an arm up to cover your chest, though it was hardly visible through the band t-shirt you’d stolen from his drawers. 

Harry jammed his toothbrush into his mouth just as you leaned over to spit in the sink. You cupped your hands under the faucet and slurped to rinse out your mouth, flicking water at Harry’s bare chest when you were finished. 

“Put a shirt on,” you told him, “I’m gonna go put on a pot of coffee.”

“Yes, dear,” he said sarcastically through a foamy mouth, brushing his free hand down the front of his chest to wipe away the water. 

You scrunched your face at him before leaving him to his own devices. You wished that everything with Harry could be this simple; just you and him, soft banter, no pressure. But you knew better; keeping your antics a secret from your friends meant toning it down. The closeness you felt with him was reserved exclusively for when you were alone.

One of your favorite things about sleeping at Harry’s house was his kitchen. While the rest of his house was modern, tall windows, white walls, and hard lines, the kitchen reminded you of home. Vintage-style appliances were lined up on the counter space next to a gas stove, a colorful tiled backsplash catching the light from the window above the sink. The floor was a simple gray linoleum, a drastic change from the expensive carpeting that blanketed most of his other rooms. 

What stood out to you most was his assemblage of coffee. He had dedicated an entire cabinet for his collection of grounds, most picked up from local shops while he traveled. You randomly grabbed for one of the bags, peering down to see that you’d picked a Jamaican dark roast. It smelled delightful, so you quickly shuffled over to his french press.

Harry stumbled into the kitchen just as you were taking the kettle off the stove, inhaling deeply before sighing contently. You noticed that he’d ignored your request to put a shirt on. He threw himself onto one of the wooden benches that lined his kitchen table, letting his eyes follow you as you darted around to find clean mugs. After huffing upon seeing his empty cabinet, you threw open the dishwasher, pulling out a plain red mug, and another that read Grand Teton National Park in bold lettering. 

“Would it kill you to put your dishes away?” You nagged, preparing his coffee the way he liked it. “I ran this load four days ago.”

He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee as you settled into the bench across from him. “This is the same coffee I drank when I wrote my first album.”

“It’s really good,” you complimented, taking a large gulp of your own cup. It was scalding hot, but you didn’t really mind the way it burned your tongue. “I might order some for myself.”

“You can’t,” he grinned, “It’s not mass produced, I found it at this little coffee house in the next town over from the studio we were in. Was owned by the cutest little old lady, had the thickest accent I’ve ever heard. Could barely make out what she was saying, but she was nice.”

You hummed, watching his eyes glaze over as he spoke about the memory. It was moments like this that reminded you of how little you really knew him. Generally, he refrains from talking about himself in any amount of detail, so having him open up about his experiences was a rarity. You were almost afraid to ask any follow-up questions, but your curiosity won out.

“Do you think you’ll ever go back?” You said quietly. “It sounds like you loved it there.”

“Maybe, I don’t know really,” he shrugged, peering into his mug as he spoke. “I liked recording at Shangri La just as much.”

You snorted, trying not to let your drink spill as you shook with laughter. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you loved it,” you giggled, “you were on psychedelics the entire time.”

He smirked, but didn’t respond, instead hoisting himself up to his feet and sliding over to the fridge. He held it open long enough for the chill to blow over you, and you shivered slightly, wishing you’d put your bra back on before breakfast.

“Should we have scrambled eggs again?” Harry mused. “Otherwise I’ve got the makings for pancakes.”

“Eggs are fine,” you hummed, moving next to him to top up your coffee. “Can you mix in veggies like you did on Wednesday?”

“Ooh, yes,” he nodded, reaching further into his fridge to pull out half of a tomato and a ripe avocado. “Could do some sausages as well.”

“Sausages?” You questioned. “You’re vegetarian, H.”

“Yeah, but you mentioned the other day that you like them a lot, so I picked some up on my trip to the shops yesterday,” he shrugged, “I don’t mind whipping up some up, I’m using the stove anyway.”

You slumped against the counter, muttering out a quiet sure. When he was sweet like this, it was hard not to fall further into your feelings. He’d thought of you at the grocery store because of some comment you’d made in passing, and he’d spent money on food that he wouldn’t even eat. 

You wanted to kiss him, wrap your arms around him, whisper your appreciation into his skin. You wanted to hold him from behind while he drizzled oil into a frying pan, and most of all, you wanted him to be yours.

But he wasn’t yours, so you excused yourself to the bathroom instead. 

He was just out of your reach, because while you got to sleep in his bed, wear his t-shirt, and make him coffee in the morning, you didn’t have his heart. He was right in front of you, but he was untouchable. And that’s what stung most of all.

~~~

You’d been weird throughout the entirety of breakfast, but it didn’t seem like Harry noticed. You were overly conscious of your proximity to him, and you couldn’t look at him without looking at his chest, so you chose to not glance in his direction at all. Whereas you’d normally take your time getting ready at his house, you rushed out the moment your plate was clean, and showered at your apartment rather than his. 

You felt crazy, like maybe you shouldn’t have had such a strong reaction to a package of frozen sausages, but you couldn’t control it. It just solidified what you already knew: you fancied Harry.

Even hours later, as you sat on your couch in the dark with a giant bowl of popcorn, you were still thinking about how he’d looked as he flipped the meat over in the pan with a spatula, wincing when the hot oil spit at his bare skin. 

The movie playing on your computer screen in front of you had long since been forgotten, pushed to the back burner of your mind by memories of what it felt like to be around Harry. Daydreams about what it would it would be like to be with him fully. Even if you started paying attention to the film now, you missed enough that it wouldn’t make any sense. 

Solo movie nights were one of your favorite things. Normally, it’d be enough to take your mind off of what was plaguing you, but tonight it wasn’t doing the trick. Perhaps later you’d try soaking in a bubble bath to truly relax.

You heard your phone ping from the other room, and you groaned as you heaved yourself off of the couch to retrieve it. People didn’t text you often, so you figured it was probably your mother texting you to complain that you hadn’t called her. She did this every so often, checking in to make sure you were happy. 

When you saw that it was a notification from Harry, you felt your heartbeat pick up in excitement. Your thumb swiped against it before you even thought about it, opening the text message with a level of giddiness you hadn’t felt in ages. 

From: Harry Styles 7:07PM

You forgot something this morning…

You raised your eyebrows, trying to think back to what you might’ve forgotten. A quick glance towards the front entryway told you that your purse was here. Just as you went to type a response, another text came through. 

From: Harry Styles 7:08PM

You choked on your own saliva once the picture finished loading, coughing into your elbow several times. Once you straightened up, you locked your phone, unable to look out of pure mortification. 

“Fuck,” you wheezed.

Out of all the things you had to forget, it was your bra, and out of all the bras you could have chosen to wear, you chose your raciest one. You felt your forehead start to sweat, and it was a good thing that you were alone because surely your entire face was flushed. 

To: Harry Styles 7:12PM

I left it on purpose, thought it would look great on you. You’re welcome.

You exhaled heavily as you sent your response, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to tell how flustered he just made you. Three little dots appeared almost instantly, indicating that he was typing, so you locked your phone and brought it back over to the couch, ignoring it when it pinged again. You didn’t want to seem too desperate, even though you knew it was ridiculous.

From: Harry Styles 7:13PM

How very thoughtful of you. Maybe we’ll have to model it for each other, see who wears it best.

You bit your lips to keep the smile from creeping up your cheeks. It felt like he was flirting with you, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. 

To: Harry Styles 7:15PM

I’ve seen you in black lace before, Mr. Met Gala. I’d say it suits you.

From: Harry Styles: 7:15PM

I’ve never seen you in black lace, but I’m definitely imagining it now….

You gulped, letting your fingers hover over the keyboard as you thought about your next response. This could very easily turn into something less innocent, but would that make things weird later? He was the one who started the conversation, but you were egging him on.

The three dots appeared again before you even formulated a response.

From: Harry Styles 7:16PM

I’ve got a shit imagination so you’ll have to tell me… is there a matching pair of knickers?

You could picture it perfectly, Harry sitting in his living room with his phone resting on his thigh, smirking as he waited for you to start typing. Maybe he was wearing nothing but a set of boxers, the record player on his bookshelf playing some slow rock ballad from the 80’s. 

Or maybe he was in bed, with nothing on, hand shoved between his legs at the thought of you in sheer back panties. You rubbed your thighs together at the mere thought. 

To: Harry Styles 7:18PM

Maybe so… 

His response was immediate.

From: Harry Styles 7:18PM

You’re killing me.

From: Harry Styles 7:18PM

:)

It was just innocent flirting. That’s what you told yourself, at least. 

Because how could it be anything else? Harry, with the world at his fingertips, couldn’t feel the same way as you did. Even though he held you snugly throughout the night, he didn’t speak to you much when you were out with your friends. He never sat next to you, laughed at your jokes, or danced with you on the dance floor. 

You put your phone on silent before tossing it onto the coffee table.

Just as you thought, you had no idea what was going on in the movie, having missed the entire middle part. You watched anyway, sighing heavily once the end credits started to roll. Unable to control yourself, you checked your phone.

From: Harry Styles 8:02PM

Are we sleeping at mine tonight?

You should have told him that you couldn’t, that maybe the two of you needed some space. You should have put your phone on Do Not Disturb, and soaked in the bath for the rest of the night. But you didn’t.

To: Harry Styles 8:04PM

Of course. See you soon

You couldn’t.

With your heart in your throat and your head in the clouds, you slipped on your shoes, picked your purse up off of the floor, and drove to Harry’s.

~~~

As always, if you made it this far, thank you! Feel free to leave me a message about your thoughts, questions, concerns... anything! Till tomorrow,

~~~

Meredith was bored. Nick had practically begged her to come over for the evening, claiming he needed her opinion on a new winter coat he bought. It was chic, for sure, so she told him it suited him. Afterwards, he’d claimed that he had nothing planned to do that night, so they decided to order chinese takeout and do face masks. 

Nick had gone with some weird, green avocado mask that his boyfriend gifted to him, and Meredith had gone classic with a charcoal peel-off. 

Friends reruns were playing on the tele, and there was a scented candle on the windowsill, but Meredith wasn’t relaxed. She didn’t really do relaxed. She needed excitement, impulsivity, maybe a bit of risk… it kept her heart pumping and her life moving forward. 

“Nick,” she groaned, throwing her head back, “are you positive that you don’t want to go out?”

“It’s a Tuesday,” he scoffed, “and I’m saving my energy for this weekend, that new club in Camden is opening and I’ve been added to their list.”

“What?” Meredith shrieked, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as she sat straight to look at him. “How the fuck did you get on the list?”

Nick smirked, knowing that Meredith would be insanely jealous. She lived for the nightlife, and TAVERN had been the talk of the town for weeks now. He didn’t want to tell her that it was actually his boyfriend on the list, and that he was the plus one, so he played coy. 

“I have connections,” he said airily. 

“Can you bring people with you?” Meredith demanded, scooting closer to him. He pursed his lips. He could probably score enough space for his little friend group, and even though he’d wanted Meredith to be jealous, he didn’t want her to be heartbroken. 

“I’ll… check,” he said hesitantly, reaching over for his phone to text his boyfriend. As soon as his phone was unlocked, he got distracted by six snapchat notifications, the red bubble annoying him to no end.  

Meredith was distracted on her phone as well, so he took his time watching each snap. None of them were worth responding to. He quickly flipped through the Daily Mail and Cosmo magazine stories, not bothering to open any articles, just reading the headlines, before heading over to his Snapchat Map to check in on his mates. 

He saw a familiar icon, and snorted loudly. 

“Mer,” he blindly reached a hand out to tap her leg, “she’s at Harry’s house again.”

Meredith just laughed, knowing what he meant without having to look at his phone. Harry didn’t have snapchat, but you did, and according to the location on the map, you had been spending the night at Harry’s house for the past month. At least, that’s when they first noticed. 

“He needs to just make a move already,” Nick chuckled, finally sending a text about TAVERN to his boyfriend, “if I see one more longing stare from him, I’m going to combust.”

“I think they’re already fucking,” Meredith scoffed, picking at her nail varnish. “Like, she’s there nearly every night. What else could they possibly be doing?”

“Nah,” Nick shook his head, “he likes her too much to just be sleeping with her. Maybe they’re secretly dating?”

“They’d never be able to hide that from us,” Meredith said as she inspected her chipped nails. She soon got distracted by something on her phone, but Nick’s thoughts lingered on his two good friends. He stared at your little bitmoji icon until his phone fell asleep, curiosity swirling through his veins.

Each song is a youtube link. If you have any songs that you would like added, feel free to submit them! xoxox Tile

Part One

Sleeping With A Friend by Neon Trees

fuck, i’m lonely by Lauv ft. Anne-Marie

Somewhere Only We Know by Keane

Flightless Bird, American Mouth by Iron & Wine

Linger by The Cranberries

Part Two

Livewire by Oh Wonder

Yours by Now, Now

Electric Feel by MGMT

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing by Jack Johnson 

Rooms on Fire by Stevie Nicks

Part Three

Drink About by Seeb ft. Dagny

Falling by Harry Styles

I Hate Myself For Loving You by Joan Jett & The Blackhearts

If You Think It’s Love by King Princess

Almost Lover by A Fine Frenzy

Part Four

That’s What You Get by Paramore

I Was A Fool by Tegan and Sarah

My Heart Got Caught On My Sleeve by Lucius

Golden by Harry Styles

A Case Of You by Joni Mitchell

Epilogue