#different frequencies

“You already signed the wizard code, by the way.”

“I what?”

She giggled, and the sound, soft, sudden, real, hit Harry like warm sunlight through stained glass. He didn’t care that he was losing miserably. He didn’t care that he had absolutely no clue what the rules were. She was laughing, and for the first time in days, she looked light again. Not floating, but steady. Present.

They played for two hours, switching games mid-way and half-finishing a plate of curly fries while Zayn waged war against the soda machine and Harry tried to convince Y/N that his strategy of “vibes only” would eventually pay off.

It didn’t.

When their energy mellowed and their fingers were sticky from too much candy, they found themselves in the quiet back booth, arms brushing now and then as they leaned in over the table.

“Leah told me everything’s fine,” Y/N said softly, her voice different now, flattened, quiet. Her eyes didn’t lift from her drink.

Zayn, halfway through a caramel pretzel, froze.

“She actually said that?” he asked, wiping his fingers on a napkin.

Y/N nodded. “She said he didn’t mean it. That he just gets angry sometimes. That he loves her.”

Harry’s stomach twisted. He pushed his fries away, appetite gone. “That’s bullshit.”

“Harry,” Zayn warned gently, but the sharpness in Harry’s eyes didn’t fade.

“No, I mean it. Darren’s a dick. I’ve seen the way he talks to people. He’s a walking red flag. The guy’s had three warnings already this semester from Coach.”

“Yeah, but warnings about his attitude in practice,” Zayn pointed out. “That’s not the same as this.”

“He’s dangerous,” Harry muttered. “All I need is something solid to get him off the team. Just one reason.”

y/n looked down at her hands, quiet. “But Leah doesn’t want to report anything. She says it’s her choice.”

“It is,” Zayn said gently. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t do something.”

“I can talk to Darren, it’s probably end in a fight but if I can get him to-”

“-No, no fights.”, y/n cuts Harry off and Harry nods, pressing his lips together. “Then you just have to get through to Leah..any other ideas?”

“We could keep an eye out for any other abusive instances.”, Zayn says.

The evening began to wind down as other patrons started clearing their tables, folding boards, and placing cards back into boxes with reluctant goodbyes. Someone flicked the lights above the café door, a subtle nudge that it was almost closing time.

y/n stretched her arms over her head with a small yawn, the kind she tried to hide behind her sleeve.

Harry smiled at the sight.

“You okay?” he asked, sliding the empty fry basket to the side.

She nodded. “Tired, but… yeah. This was good.”

Zayn stood, brushing crumbs from his hoodie. “We should do it again. Maybe next week?”

y/n turned to Harry, uncertain. “Would you… come again?”

He raised his eyebrows, mock serious. “Even after getting destroyed by the ‘Wizard’s Union of Honor and Card-Stealing’? I’d be honored.”

She laughed again, softer now. Her shoulders didn’t look so tense anymore.

As they walked out into the cool evening, the sidewalk quiet under their feet, Zayn had parked the car somewhere at the back, he ran off saying he’d go get it and pull up. That left just Y/N and Harry.

They stood near the curb for a beat, neither quite ready to say goodbye.

“So,” Harry said, rocking back on his heels a little. “We’ve officially eaten our weight in carbs and lost all sense of board game logic. Want to take it to the next level?”

Y/N blinked at him, confused again. 

He grinned. “Come to my game. Day after, evening. Home match. You don’t have to stay long if it’s too much, but..I'd really like it if you were there.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “You want me to come watch you play?”

“I do,” he said, more gently this time. “It’s loud, yeah. But I can save you a seat. Somewhere quieter. You’d be safe. I’ll make sure of it.”

She hesitated, not out of fear, but out of surprise.

Then, after a second, she gave a tiny nod. “Okay. I’ll try.”

His smile broke slowly across his face, wider than he intended, and warmer than he could hide.

“Good,” he said. “It’s a date.”

She looked up sharply, eyes wide again.

He backpedaled instantly. “I mean, not a date date. Unless you want it to be? Or we could pretend I didn’t say that. Up to you.”

Y/N bit her lip, hiding another smile. “Okay.”

“Okay, okay or okay to ignore it?”

She turned and started walking toward the dorms, her voice drifting behind her like a ribbon. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Styles.”

Harry stood there a second longer, watching her disappear down the sidewalk, heart doing something stupid in his chest.

Then he exhaled, shoved his hands in his pockets, and grinned at the empty street.

_____________________________________________

The squeak of sneakers and the sharp echo of bouncing balls filled the gym. Whistles blew. Sweat dripped. The energy was off.

And Harry felt it crawling under his skin.

Darren was playing like the court belonged to him. Hogging the ball, ignoring plays, showboating with unnecessary spins, and shooting from angles that made zero sense.

“Pass it, Darren!” Harry barked as he ran for an opening.

Darren ignored him and launched a wild three-pointer that hit the rim and bounced hard off the backboard.

Missed. Again.

“That fucking shithead.”, Nate groaned, the rest of the players murmuring curses as well. 

Coach blew the whistle. Hard.

“Enough!” he snapped. “We play as a team or we don’t play at all.”

Harry clenched his jaw. His fists were already twitching. Not just because of the selfish play, but because every time he looked at Darren, all he could hear was y/n’s voice from last night.

He didn’t mean it. He loves her…

Bullshit.

“Get it together,” Coach growled, throwing Darren a sharp look. “One more screw-up and you’re benched for game day.”

Darren muttered something under his breath and jogged to the bench, sulking like a child.

“Harry?” Harry realizes Nate was talking to him and unclenches his fists, slowly moving his gaze away from Darren. “I was saying how coach himself will throw him out soon if he keeps this up.”

“I hope he does.”, Harry mumbles. The only reason why Darren was still in the team was because he is a good player. Doesn’t miss the basket often. Only if he gets in his head too much.

Practice ended ten minutes early. Coach stormed off and the players scattered.

“Not coming mate?”, Nate asks him as Harry head’s towards the locker room. “I’ll catch up, you get going.”

Harry stayed back, and so did Darren.

The locker room was nearly empty when Harry finally walked in, towel over his neck, sweat still cooling on his back.

Darren was at his locker, shirtless, humming like nothing happened. Harry didn’t wait.

He slammed his locker shut with a loud bang that echoed through the room.

Darren didn’t flinch. Just smirked over his shoulder. “Problem, Captain?”

Harry stepped in close, voice low but sharp. “You’re done. One more stunt, one more attitude, and I’m taking it to Coach. All of it.”

Darren raised an eyebrow. “What’s all of it, huh?”

Harry stared him down. “You and Leah. I know.”

Darren scoffed. “You know nothing.”

“I know enough.”

There was a moment of silence, heavy and charged. Then Darren turned around fully, tossing a shirt over his shoulder as he sneered.

“Oh, wait. This is about that little weirdo you’ve been babysitting, isn’t it?”

Harry’s jaw tensed.

Darren leaned in mockingly. “She got you wrapped around her quiet little fingers? I saw her, all twitchy and awkward. Speaks so damn slow and looks like she’s in play school still. Heard she’s quite stupid and hopeless. Freaks like that are easy to-”

Crack.

The punch came before Harry could think. It landed hard, knuckles against jaw, skin against bone.

Darren staggered back, hitting the locker door behind him.

“Say her name again,” Harry snarled, his voice shaking with fury. “Go ahead. I dare you.”

Darren wiped blood from the corner of his lip, staring up at him. His cocky grin was gone now. “You just screwed yourself.”

Harry didn’t back down. “No. You did. And if I hear anything about you putting your hands on Leah again, or so much as breathing in y/n’s direction, I will make it my entire mission to make sure you lose everything. Team, scholarship, reputation, everything.”

Darren glared, chest heaving.

Harry turned and walked out before he could throw another punch. His heart was still pounding, but not from adrenaline.

It was rage. 

____________________________________________

A half-empty coffee cup sat forgotten beside Harry’s open textbook, and he hadn’t turned a page in fifteen minutes.

y/n noticed.

She sat across from him, legs tucked under the chair, her pencil tapping lightly against the edge of her notes. She tilted her head slightly, studying him, noticing the way he kept drumming his fingers on the table, how his eyes kept flicking to the window like something outside was pulling at him.

“You’re not reading,” she said quietly, touching the tip of the pencil to his nose.

Harry blinked, startled out of his thoughts. “Huh?”

“You’ve looked at the same sentence four times.”

He dropped his gaze and gave a sheepish shrug. “Yeah. Sorry. Just… got a lot on my mind.”

She hesitated, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Is something wrong?”

He looked up at her then, her eyes soft and searching, and immediately felt bad for not being fully there.

“No. Nothing’s wrong. I think I’m just… nervous. Big game tonight.”

Y/N nodded slowly, accepting the explanation, though she didn’t entirely buy it. Still, she didn’t push.

Instead, she smiled a little. “I’ve never been to a basketball game before.”

That caught his attention.

His lips quirked into a grin. “Seriously?”

She shook her head. “Not even one. I don’t know the rules. Or… where to look.”

Harry leaned back in his chair, suddenly amused and more relaxed than he’d been all morning. “Alright, well… it’s not rocket science.”

“Zayn has said that to me before. He said the same for social cues, and it’s not true.,” she rambled.

He laughed and the tension in his shoulders finally began to ease.

“Fair point,” he said, grinning. “Okay, let’s do a crash course.”

He pulled his notebook toward him and drew a rough outline of a court. “This is the hoop. You want the ball to go in the hoop. Not rocket science. We’ve got five players on each team. Two guards, two forwards, and a center.”

“You?”

“Me? I’m point guard. I run the plays. Set up passes. Kind of like the guy with the map.”

“So you’re the map guy.”

“Exactly. Except if the map guy is also yelling and sweating and trying not to get elbowed in the ribs.”

She leaned forward, chin resting on her hand. “Is it dangerous?”

“Nah, I’ll stay safe.”, he smiles, leaning towards her too.

“I’ll be honest,” she said, voice softer now, “I’m a little scared. The noise. The crowd.”

“I get that,” he said gently. “I’ll save you a seat near the front, by the benches. It’s not as loud there. Less people. Coach will be cool with it.”

Her eyes flicked up to his, grateful.

“I’ll be okay,” she said, more to herself than him.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he promised, without hesitation. He reached out to gently tuck away a strand of her hair that came out of her side braid, behind her ear. y/n just smiled but her heart beat just a little faster at his soft gesture.

“Green.”, she whispered, her focus shifting. 

“What’s that, Cherry?”, Harry watches as her eyes focus on his, which rarely happens. 

“Your eyes, green like the forest. There’s gold too, like..like sunlight and the left one has more brown around the iris.”

Her brain panicked a little, maybe she made things weird and said too much. She quickly looked down. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I think about yours too.”, Harry mumbled and his gentle, warm fingers grab her chin and tilt it up so she looks at him again. “They’re soft. Quiet, but not dull. Like they’re always thinking ten layers deeper than what you say out loud. You know, even if it’s for a few seconds, I love it when you give me your eyes, Cherry.”

She took a few seconds to process what he meant and when she did, she felt warmth unfurl in her chest. And she was still maintaining her eye contact with him, his green eyes staying still too. 

She realized that she was starting to trust him. With her words, and with her eyes.

______________________________

y/n stood in front of her bedroom mirror, staring at herself like she wasn’t quite sure who she was tonight.

It was just a basketball game.

Except it wasn’t.

It was his game. And she was going for him.

She tugged at the sleeves of her soft navy sweater and smoothed her jeans, mentally checking the list of things she needed. Fidget cube. Water bottle. Small weighted lap pad folded into her tote bag, just in case. She didn’t know what the bleachers would feel like. Or how loud it might be. But she was going. Because he asked.

A quiet knock came at her door, and then her mom peeked in. “You look great, honey.”

y/n turned, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s not… too much?”

Her mom smiled. “It’s just right. He’s going to love seeing you there.”

She blushed. “It’s not..it’s not a date.”

Her mom raised an eyebrow. “Mm-hmm.”

Before she could protest, a honk sounded from outside.

“Zayn,” she muttered.

Her mom pulled her into a hug before she left. “Be safe. Text me when you get there. And after. And if you need to come home early—”

“I know,” y/n said softly. “I’ve got it.”

And strangely… she really felt like she did.

Zayn had music playing low, one hand on the wheel and a smug grin on his face.

“So,” he said, after five whole minutes of silence, “are you gonna tell me what you’re wearing under that sweater, or do I have to assume it’s ‘I heart Harry’ merch?”

She groaned. “Zayn—”

“I mean, I get it,” he teased. “Hot basketball guy? You? Mentorship turned romance? It’s giving a YA novel realness.”

She turned her face toward the window, biting back a reluctant smile. “It’s not a date.”

He snorted. “He invited you to his game, is sitting you front row, probably gonna win MVP while looking at you dramatically mid-free throw… Yeah, alright. Not a date.”

She sighed, cheeks hot. “You’re annoying.”

“Extremely. Also, if he so much as breathes wrong near you, I’m throwing hands. Don’t care how pretty he is.”

y/n laughed quietly, and Zayn’s smile softened at the sound.

“You okay, though?” he asked more gently. “We don’t have to stay the whole time.”

“I think I’m okay,” she said. “I want to try.”

And she did.

The moment they walked into the gym, the shift hit her like a wave. Lights. Noise. Movement. A dull roar of voices. The smell of popcorn and sweat and the sharp echo of basketballs bouncing.

y/n’s fingers found her tote bag instinctively, grounding herself.

And then she saw him.

Harry.

He was already walking toward them, towel slung around his neck, jersey half untucked, curls wild and damp with pre-game sweat. The second his eyes landed on her, his face changed, lit up in a way she’d never quite seen before.

“You made it,” he said, a little breathless. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she managed, voice soft.

Zayn gave Harry a look, protective and unreadable. Harry gave him a polite nod, then turned his full attention back to Y/N.

“I saved you a seat,” he said, gesturing toward the far side, near the team bench. “It’s quieter over there. You’re not too close to the student section.”

As they walked, he pulled something from behind his back. “Also… got these for you.”

Noise cancelling headphones. And it was a baby pink shade. 

“I figured it might get loud,” he said, trying to sound casual, but his voice held a nervous edge. “And uh, I also brought those chewy mints you like. For, you know. Sensory stuff. Read that it helps.”

She stared at him.

“I just wanted to make it easier,” he said, quieter now. 

For a long second, she didn’t speak. Just stood there, heart doing strange and sudden things.No one had ever done that for her before. She didn’t know what to say, so she just gave a tiny nod and mouthed, thank you.

His smile returned, softer, just for her.

“I have to go warm up,” he said reluctantly, already backing away. “But I’ll see you after, yeah?”

“Okay,” she whispered.

He turned, jogged a few steps, then looked back, just once. Like he had to make sure she was still there.

_______________________________________

Harry reached the bench, jaw tight again.

Because he felt it.

Eyes.

Darren.

Sitting just across the court, lacing his sneakers with a slow, mocking smirk on his face. He was watching Harry, like he knew something.

Like he was waiting.

Harry’s fists clenched.

He didn’t care if he threw another punch tonight. Didn’t care if it cost him the game. The season.

But if Darren so much as looked at y/n the wrong way-

He’d bury him.

He scanned the crowd one more time, just to be sure. And there she was, settling into her seat beside Zayn. But something else made his stomach twist.

Leah.

Sitting only a few seats down from Y/N, alone.

Too close.

Harry tore his eyes away and jogged back toward the huddle, trying to shake it off.

Focus. Play. Win.

And after that?

He’d deal with Darren. One way or another.

The gym was electric.

Music pumped through the speakers. Students screamed in waves. Sneakers squeaked across the polished floor. The scoreboard buzzed as the numbers climbed. Harry’s team was holding the lead, but barely.

Y/N sat near the bench with Zayn beside her, hands pressed against the warm cup of cocoa he’d insisted on getting her from the vending machine outside. Her headphones dulled the roar of the crowd to something distant, like waves crashing behind thick glass. She breathed easier because of it.

But she was still watching him.

Harry.

Number 7.

He moved across the court like he belonged to it. Fast, sharp, focused. But every few minutes, after a pass, a rebound, or a timeout, his eyes found her again. Quick glances. Like silent check-ins. She didn’t know how he always knew where she was, but he did.

“Damn,” a girl a few rows behind her giggled to her friend, loud enough to hear through one ear cup. “Is it just me or is Harry Styles actually looking over here?”

y/n smiled faintly.

He was.

But not at them.

She didn’t need to turn around to feel their curious stares. She just lowered her eyes to the cocoa again, her fingers curling a little tighter around the cup.

She didn’t need to say anything.

She knew.

The buzzer rang and players jogged off the court toward the locker rooms. The gym roared around them, full of cheers and music, and Zayn got up to stretch.

“I’ll grab you a protein bar,” he said, heading toward concessions.

y/n gave a small nod.

She didn’t notice Leah until she was already beside her.

“Hey.”

The voice made her turn, and the tone made her stomach twist.

Leah looked pale, too thin, her hands shaking slightly as she folded her arms over her chest. Her makeup was smudged in the corner of one eye. She didn’t look like someone enjoying a basketball game.

She looked like someone trying not to fall apart.

y/n sat up straighter. “Leah… are you—”

“You need to stop,” Leah cut in quickly, eyes darting around. “This thing you’re doing. Trying to tell people something’s wrong.”

y/n froze.

“He didn’t do anything,” Leah said, too fast, too rehearsed. “We’re good. We’ve worked things out. You misunderstood.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You did,” Leah insisted, voice a little louder now. “Just… drop it, okay? I know you think you’re helping, but you’re not. You’re making it worse.”

And there it was.

y/n could see it. In Leah’s trembling hands. The way her eyes never met hers. The small flinch when a loud whistle echoed across the gym.

He’d threatened her.

y/n’s heart ached.

“Did Darren tell you to say that?” she asked quietly.

Leah blinked hard, jaw tightening. “Just leave us alone. Please.”

And before Y/N could say anything, she was gone. She was distracted for the rest of the game, repeatedly running the conversation with Leah in her head, her body cues, her tone, everything.

The buzzer blared, the crowd roared, and just like that it was over.

Victory.

Harry’s team had won.

Confetti cannons went off somewhere near the student section (probably Niall’s idea), and people were flooding the court before the players could even make it to the benches. Teammates clapped Harry on the back, ruffled his hair, shouted his name like he was royalty.

But all he was looking for… was her.

And there she was, still in the same seat, standing up now, hands clasped in front of her, headphones pulled off, eyes wide.

He pushed through the crowd to reach her, breath still heavy from the last quarter.

“You saw that?” he asked, grinning like a kid. “You watched the whole thing?”

y/n smiled, a little softer than before as she gives him a victory pat on the shoulder. “You were incredible.”

His heart swelled.

But before he could say anything else, Niall threw an arm around his neck, dragging him backward.

“C’mon, Styles! Team photo! You can flirt later!”

Harry groaned but let himself be pulled back, looking over his shoulder. “Don’t leave! I’ll be right back!”

She nodded.

But she didn’t say anything.

___________________________________

y/n turned to sit again but before she could reach the bench, a voice cut through the noise behind her.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come.”

She froze.

Darren.

He stepped beside her, too close, his breath hot with sweat and something sour. His smile was twisted like it always was when no one was watching.

“You’ve got a real hero complex, huh?” he said, voice low so no one else could hear. “Trying to fix things that aren’t yours?”

“I’m not trying to-”

“You are,” he snapped, eyes narrowing. “And you need to stop. Leah’s fine. We’re fine. Whatever Harry thinks he knows, he doesn’t. And if you don’t want things getting messy for you, you’ll keep it that way.”

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

He leaned in, voice a whisper of venom. “I’ll say this one last time. Drop it.”

Then, just like that, he slipped back into the crowd, smiling, laughing, blending in like he hadn’t just poisoned the air around her.

_____________________________

Harry was finally free from the circle of teammates and photos and coach talk. He ran back to the bench, looking for her and found her standing quietly, arms wrapped around herself, her eyes distant.

“Hey,” he said, gently touching her arm. “You okay?”

She blinked, like coming out of a trance. “Yeah. Just tired. I think… I want to go home.”

His smile faltered. “Right. Yeah, of course. Do you want me to drop you or-?”

“Zayn said he’d drive,” she interrupted quickly, her voice light but hollow.

Harry frowned, searching her face. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I am,” she said. Too fast.

He didn’t believe her. But he could already see Coach waving him over, teammates calling his name again.

“I’ll text you later?” he offered, reluctantly stepping back.

She nodded, forcing a smile. “Good game, Harry.”

He watched her walk away with a strange ache in his chest.

Something was wrong.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

__________________________________________

y/n sat curled into the far end of Zayn’s couch, legs folded under her, hands wrapped around a mug she hadn’t sipped from in an hour. Her eyes were on the rug, distant. It was the next day, and her radio silence with both the boys had made them curious, or rather concerned.

Zayn paced.

Harry sat in the corner armchair, elbows on knees, bouncing one leg restlessly. He’d come over as soon as she stopped responding to his texts, because something was wrong, and he couldn’t stand not knowing.

“I just don’t get it,” Zayn muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not saying anything. Either of you.”

“Because we’re trying not to overwhelm her,” Harry said, a little sharper than he meant to.

y/n didn’t react.

Harry turned to her again, more gentle now. “y/n… did Darren do something to you? At the game?”

She blinked. Slowly.

Zayn looked between them, brow furrowed. “Wait, why Darren? What does he have to do with anything?”

Harry’s mouth opened, then shut. He exhaled through his nose.

Zayn stared at him. “Harry.”

“...After practice the other day,” Harry started, reluctantly. “He said something. About her. About y/n. It was disgusting. I hit him.”

Zayn stared. “You what?”

“I didn’t tell you because—” Harry glanced at Y/N. “I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. I thought I could handle it. And I thought maybe he wouldn’t try anything.”

Zayn’s jaw locked. “He talked about her how, exactly?”

Harry looked away. “You don’t want to know.”

“No, see-I do want to know,” Zayn snapped. “Because I let her go to that game, Harry. I left her there while you were taking photos and Darren was, what? Circling her like a fucking vulture?”

“Nothing happened,” Harry said quickly. “I swear.”

“But he could have! You knew he had a problem with her and you still—”

“Stop.”

Both boys froze.

Y/N’s voice wasn’t loud. But it cut straight through them like a knife.

She looked up slowly, eyes clearer now, voice shaking but steady.

“Just stop.”

Zayn swallowed, guilt pooling in his throat. “y/n-”

“You’re both talking about me like I’m not sitting right here,” she said. “Like I’m not the one who got threatened. Twice.”

Harry went quiet. So did Zayn.

She put the mug down. Stood up.

“I know he’s dangerous. I know Leah’s scared. I know none of this is easy. But I’m not made of glass, okay?”

Harry stepped toward her, careful. “We’re not trying to treat you like-”

“Then don’t,” she said. “Don’t yell at each other and keep secrets and make decisions without me. I’m tired of everyone trying to protect me by excluding me.”

They both looked gutted.

Zayn cleared his throat. “Okay. You’re right.”

Harry nodded. “You are.”

y/n’s voice was quieter now, but still firm. “What we need to do now is stop panicking and think. Because Darren isn’t going to stop. And if Leah won’t speak up… then we have to figure out what comes next.”

Harry looked at her with something close to awe.

She wasn’t shaking anymore.

She was steady.The living room had shifted.

No more pacing. No more arguing. Just three people sitting on the floor, a half-empty snack bowl between them, and tension humming like static in the air.

Zayn had a pen in hand, tapping it against his knee. Harry was cross-legged, frowning at nothing. y/n sat between them, blanket draped around her shoulders, focused in a way they hadn’t seen since before the game.

“She won’t say anything,” y/n said, breaking the silence. “Not unless she feels safe.”

Zayn nodded. “Then we make her feel safe. Pull her aside at school.”

Harry shook his head. “That won’t work. He watches her. All the time. He’s like... attached.”

“Then what?” Zayn muttered. “We can’t go to the dean with nothing but vibes and bruises we haven’t seen.”

Y/N was quiet for a second. Then: “What if we don’t ask her to come forward?”

They both looked at her.

Harry’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she said slowly, “what if we find a way to prove it without needing her to speak first? Something he’s already done. Or is going to do.”

Zayn leaned forward. “Like… catching him in the act?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Not baiting him. That’s dangerous. But maybe… maybe we just need Leah to know she has a way out.”

There was a pause.

Then Harry’s voice came low.

“What if we talk to someone she trusts?”

“Does she even have anyone else?” Zayn asked. “She’s always with him.”

“Maybe we’ve just never seen her alone long enough to know.”

y/n looked down at the blanket around her, then back up.

“I can try,” she said. “I know how to be quiet. Invisible, even. That’s what people expect from me. But I see things. If I can find her… just her…”

Harry leaned closer. “You’d do that?”

“I have to.”

Zayn exhaled sharply. “Alright. We try to reach her. We give her a safe out.”

Harry added, “And if she still doesn’t talk, we make sure Darren doesn’t have anywhere left to hide.”

y/n looked between them.

“Then we need a plan.”

Zayn grabbed a notebook, flipping to a blank page, pen at the ready. “Okay. Let’s start with where she goes when she’s not with him—”

Harry’s phone buzzed just then. A text.

He glanced down and tilted his head in thought as he read the message.

y/n saw it immediately. “What?”

Harry didn’t answer at first. He read it again, then looked up, slowly.

“Coach,” he said. “He just texted to ask if I knew where Darren was. Said he never showed up to review.”

Zayn frowned. “Weird. Wait..Leah didn’t show up for the morning class. I heard her friend say that they hadn’t seen her after the game.”

“And you’re telling this now.”, Harry groaned. 

“It was the first class Styles, I was barely awake! And I was busy thinking about what can happen to my grade if I skip my next class because you two losers called an emergency meeting-”

y/n’s fingers tightened in her sleeves.

“Both of them?” she whispered. “Gone?”

Harry nodded. “Looks like no one’s seen either of them since the game.”

The silence in the room turned cold.

y/n swallowed hard. “Then we’re already out of time.”

_____________________________________

Harry jogged down the front steps of the Fine Arts building, phone to his ear. “Nothing. Checked the studio wing, the greenroom, even the vending machines. No Leah. No Darren.”

Zayn’s voice crackled from the other end. “Try the back exit near the theater. I’m heading toward the library now.”

“You sure this isn’t just some Romeo and Juliet ‘run off together’ kind of thing?”

Zayn sighed. “Leah didn’t even look at Darren after the game. She looked… terrified.”

Harry muttered, “Yeah, well, if this is Romeo and Juliet, I hope we skip the dagger-to-the-heart ending.”

He hung up and turned, nearly crashing into y/n.

“Whoa,” he said, grabbing her arms, steadying himself and her. “Didn’t see you there, Cherry.”

She rolled her eyes, and Harry moved his hand to grasp hers, looking into her eyes. “Hey, I want to apologize for not telling you about the locker room incident. I just didn’t want to overwhelm you. But I shouldn’t have kept it from you, I understand it now.”

She nodded, weirdly comforted by his hand in hers. “Okay. Now search.”

Harry smiled, letting her hand go with a kiss on the back of her hand, making her blush furiously. He kept looking at her, so she said, “Not for me, Harry, for Leah.”

“Right. Sorry, Cherry, you’re distracting.”

Zayn joined them a few minutes later, slightly breathless from running. “Nothing at the library. But guess what? One of the assistants said Leah didn’t return her books this morning.”

“She always does that. Like… clockwork.”, Harry said.

“So either she’s sick,” Zayn offered, “or she’s being held hostage in Darren’s basement while he reads her feminist theory books out loud in a threatening tone.”

y/n looked at him. “You’re not helping.”

“Dark humor is a coping mechanism,” he said, hands up. “I’m fragile.”

Harry laughed softly, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Why do I feel like I’m in a true crime documentary and you’re the sidekick who gets us all killed?”

“I might die first,” Zayn agreed solemnly. “But I die hot and beloved.”

y/n looked at both of them and groaned. Why did she have friends like them?

__________________________________________________

“I don’t like this,” Harry murmured, frowning as he slowed. “Something feels… off.”

They were heading down the sloped walkway behind the old Science building, a quieter part of campus students usually avoided unless they had class or were hiding something. Cracked concrete, empty bike racks, the back door of the greenhouse padlocked shut.

Zayn glanced around. “Creepy. This is definitely where I’d lure someone if I were a serial killer.”

“Stop saying stuff like that, Zayn.” y/n  muttered, walking slower now.

Harry stopped.

“Wait.”

He crouched near the base of the wall, beside a utility shed.

“What is it?” Zayn asked, stepping closer.

Harry held up a phone.

A pink case.

Cracked screen.

y/ns heart dropped. “That’s Leah’s.”

Zayn reached for it but Harry was already staring down at the screen.

A message was still open.

One that hadn't been sent.

“Please don’t tell them. I’m fine. Just needed space. Don’t—”

Harry read it aloud, then stood slowly.

“She didn’t get to send it.”

Zayn was quiet for a beat. “This wasn’t just her skipping class.”

Harry looked around again, closer this time. His eyes caught something on the side of the shed.

A mark. Red chalk?

A crude arrow. Pointing toward the woods behind the fencing.

y/n followed his line of sight.

Her stomach twisted.

“Guys,” she whispered. “Darren wants us to follow.”

Zayn squinted. “That’s weirdly theatrical, even for him.”

“No,” Harry said, voice low. “It’s a setup.”

And just then-

A buzz.

Harry’s phone.

One message.

Unknown number.

“So predictable. Come find her.”

--------------------------------------

Before he could say more, someone walked up behind her. Tall, dark-haired, with a backpack slung lazily over one shoulder.

“Hello,” Zayn said, voice casual, as he dropped a soft side hug onto Y/N’s shoulder. “Hi Zayn!”, she replies brightly.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t stiffen. She leaned into the hug, just for a second. 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “That’s rare,” he said, nodding toward the hug. “She usually threatens to stab me with a pencil if I get within a foot.”

Zayn laughed, sliding into the seat beside her. “She’s been threatening me since second grade. Took her a decade to allow a side hug.” Zayn looks sideways at his best friend. “You two are getting along pretty well too, aren’t ya?”

“Harry asks too many questions.”, she says, and Zayn chuckles. 

“Yeah, I can be annoying, but you haven’t told me to stop.” Harry wiggles his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you say we’re great friends now?”

y/n was focusing on the drawing, but she was listening. She takes a minute to think before saying, “Friends, yeah.”

Zayn laughs as Harry’s face falls. “Oh well.”, he sighs and answers his phone as it rings. “Yeah, mate?”

Harry’s eyes furrow as he curses, “That dick. Yeah I’m coming.” He hangs up as he mutters, “Fucking asshole-”

“Harry! No cursing, and it’s the library! So shh!”, y/n glares at him. Harry gets up with his hands out, defensively. “I’m sorry, Cherry, I gotta go anyway. Something came up. Meet you tomorrow at 2.”

She lifted her head up to give him a small wave, that made him smile and give her one back. “See you around, Zayn.”

“Yup, see ya.”

 Zayn noticed the tiny flicker of her eyes tracking Harry until he disappeared through the main doors.

The moment he was gone, Zayn turned to her, smirking.

“Sooooo…” he started, drawing out the word.

y/n didn’t look up. “No.”

“You didn’t even let me ask.”

“It’s still no.”

“Come on. You like him.”

She finally glanced up. “I tolerate him..”

“Tolerate?” Zayn teased. “You didn’t even flinch when he sat across from you. You let him sit with you in class and ask you questions. You didn’t hit him with your sketchbook.”

“He’s good, he doesn’t make fun of me..,” she muttered, closing her book carefully.

“Well, he’s clearing your bar. With swagger, too.”

y/n sighed. “What bar?”

“What I mean is that, finally, it looks like my best friend has an interest in someone!”

“Nope.”, she said but there was the faintest smile there, reluctant and secret. She stood, tucking her sketchbook into her backpack.

Zayn slung an arm around her shoulders as they headed toward the parking lot.

“Let me hug you like a normal person.”

“No.”

“What if I promise to stop talking about Harry?”

“Double no.”

“You wound me.”

She snorted. He bumped her gently with his shoulder.

“It’s good, though,” he said after a pause. “You letting people in, even just a little.”

“Let’s not make it a speech.”

“Fine,” Zayn grinned. “But if he breaks your heart, I will break his knees.”

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t push him away either. That was anwer enough. “Movie night at my place?”, she offers, and Zayn grins happily. “Do you need to ask? I’m always down!”

________________________________

In the locker room across campus, the mood was different.

Shouting echoed off the tiled walls. Harry stepped into the room to see two players squared off. One red-faced and furious, the other smirking, arms crossed.

Darren.

“That’s enough!” Harry barked, shoving his way between them.

The younger player backed off immediately, still scowling. Darren didn’t move.

“You wanna act like a damn child?” Harry snapped. “Pick fights like we’re in a high school locker room?”

Darren just leaned against the wall, nonchalant. “He mouthed off.”

“You pushed him into the lockers.”

“Barely.”

Harry’s jaw clenched.

“This is the third time, Darren. Next one, you're benched. Fourth? You're off the team.”

Darren scoffed. “You’re not the coach.”

“No,” Harry said evenly, “but I’m the captain. And I’ve got enough pull to make sure you’re gone. Try me.”

Darren’s smirk widened, slow and mocking.

“You gonna cry about it to Coach? Or maybe that little pet project of yours, what’s her name? y/n the freak?”

Harry’s expression darkened instantly. He stepped closer.

“Watch it.”

“Relax,” Darren said with a snort, pushing off the wall. “Didn’t know she needed a bodyguard.”

He brushed past Harry and walked out, laughter echoing behind him, the kind that wasn’t amused, just cruel.

Harry stood there a beat longer, fists clenched. He didn't know yet just how deep Darren’s cruelty ran, but something told him this wasn’t the last time their paths would clash.

____________________________

It was quiet on the east side of campus, where the older buildings stood, all ivy-covered brick and rusted window frames. Y/N always came this way before her sessions with Harry. The walk was longer, but it was quieter. No one shouting across lawns. No earbuds blaring in passing ears. Just gravel crunching underfoot and the low hum of distant traffic.

She liked the stillness. She could think here.

Y/N rounded the corner of the building slowly, tucking her sketchbook under her arm. She had a new piece to show Harry, something calmer than yesterday’s city of sound. She’d used only blue this time. Layers of it. Textured. Like silence painted in water.

That’s when she heard it. It wasn’t loud, but sharp. A voice, cut off mid-sentence. Then a thud. Her head snapped toward the alley between the arts building and the storage annex.

A girl stumbled back against the wall.

y/n froze.

It was Leah, a girl from her design theory class. Always kind, always softly spoken. Her portfolio was filled with soft pastels and tiny, intricate patterns.

Leah’s back was pressed hard to the bricks, one hand raised like she was trying to make herself smaller.

Darren stood in front of her.

Even from a distance, y/n could tell it was him. Tall, broad, that ever-present tension in his shoulders like he was always one second away from snapping.

“Don’t talk to me like that again,” he hissed. “I don’t care who was watching.”

Leah said something, too quiet for y/n to hear and Darren stepped forward fast.

His hand didn’t hit her, not exactly. But it grabbed her wrist hard enough that she gasped. He yanked her forward, whispered something with a snarl in his voice, then shoved her back. Not enough to knock her down but enough that she staggered.

y/n’s fingers dug into her sketchbook. Her pulse roared in her ears. She even noticed a bruise forming on Leah’s right cheek, had he hit her before she stumbled upon them? She didn’t move. Didn’t speak. She just watched, locked in place by something cold and familiar.

Her father’s voice, sharp and sudden. Her mother’s stillness. The day the door closed, and no one came back.

Darren turned, storming off down the path, and y/n flinched as his footsteps pounded past her without even noticing she was there.

Leah stayed frozen against the wall for a second longer, then quickly wiped her face and walked the other way.

Y/N didn’t call out. She just stood there, sketchbook pressed against her chest like a shield, mouth open slightly. She had to get out of there.

y/n walked briskly, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, shoulders tight with tension. Her breathing was shallow, controlled, but barely. The image of Leah’s frightened eyes and Darren’s aggressive grip looped in her mind like a broken record.

She didn’t know how she got to the room. Only that she pushed open the door, her limbs stiff and cold, and stepped inside.

Harry was already there, which was rare as he always comes late. He looked up, smirking.

“Well, look who’s late for once,” he teased, tapping his watch. “I was starting to think you got abducted by the math department.”

Silence.

She didn’t smile. Didn’t roll her eyes or tuck her hair behind her ear like she usually did. She just stood there for a second, frozen near the door, eyes unfocused.

Harry’s smile dropped halfway. “Hey,” he said, more gently now. “You alright?”

Still nothing.

She moved to her seat, mechanically. Set her bag down too carefully. Sat without looking up. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for her pen, then changed her mind and placed it flat on the table instead.

Harry watched her. Really watched her.

y/n was quiet, yes. She often needed time to warm into a session, to speak, or even meet his gaze. But this was different. This stillness wasn’t peace. It was something else. Like she was somewhere else entirely.

He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Cherry?”

She couldn’t form words. Harry gasps softly when he notices that her eyes are welling up. “Did something happen?”

The walls were closing in.

Y/N’s breath hitched as her fingers dug into the sleeve of her sweater, knuckles white. The air felt too loud, the ticking of the clock, the faint hum of the lights, even Harry’s quiet breathing across from her. It all pressed in.

“I-” she croaked, then stopped.

Harry was concerned now, but he didn’t want to rush her. “Take your time. You’re safe, yeah?”

But her body didn’t believe him.

She shook her head. “It… it reminded me-” Her voice broke. “I can’t-I don’t wanna be here, I can’t be here-”

“Okay,” Harry said quickly, pushing back his chair just a bit to give her space. “Okay, no problem. You don’t have to stay. You can leave, if that’s what you want-”

“Call Zayn,” she gasped out. “Please. Call Zayn. I need Zayn to take me home.”

Harry was already reaching for his phone. “Yeah, yeah-of course. I’ll call him.”

She was rocking now, ever so slightly, her hands over her ears, not pressing hard, but enough to dim the world.

Harry found Zayn’s contact, the only reason he had it was because Zayn had given it to him telling him he might need it for emergencies. This qualified as an emergency, didn’t it?

One ring. Two. Straight to voicemail.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Harry muttered. He tried again. Nothing.

He looked up. “y/n… I can’t reach him. He’s not picking up.”

Her eyes widened, panic flickering across her face. “No. No, he was-he said he’d-he’s supposed to-”

“I know,” Harry said gently. “He probably thought the session would run longer. He’ll be here soon. But until then, I can-”

“No,” she snapped, too loud for her own ears, flinching. “No, I don’t want- I need Zayn.”

Harry swallowed hard. This wasn’t about him. He knew that.

But it was about being there. About doing something. Anything.

“I’m not trying to replace him,” he said carefully, voice softer than ever. “I just… I don’t want you to be alone while you’re feeling like this.”

Tears were streaming down her face now, but she wasn’t sobbing. Just shaking, as though the world inside her was coming apart in slow motion.

Harry pulled his hoodie off and held it out gently. “Here. Just while we wait. You don’t have to talk. Or look at me. Just, here.”

She stared at it. Then, after a long moment, reached out and took it with trembling hands, pulling it over her own. It was warm. It smelled faintly of him- something clean, earthy, familiar.

Harry sat back down, not too close, not too far.

He kept his phone on the table, screen facing up, so she could see it.

“I’ll keep calling,” he said quietly. “I promise. I could drive you home, Cherry, I don’t mind.”, he adds, eyes going to her trembling hands. Harry gently slid his hand over hers, warm and steady. He didn’t squeeze. Didn’t shift. Just held it, his thumb brushing the back of her hand lightly, not to soothe, but to say I’m here.

And to his surprise… she didn’t flinch.

Her breath hitched again, but this time, a little less like panic and more like relief. The shaking didn’t stop entirely, but it slowed, like her body was listening to something her mind hadn’t caught up to yet.

Harry swallowed.

He had held hands a hundred times before. With girls he’d dated, friends, strangers at parties who needed help down stairs. But this? This wasn’t like that.

This was delicate. Like holding a bird that might fly away the second you tried too hard.

“H-Harry.”

 His phone was ringing. Still holding one of her hands, he answers the phone with the other. 

“Is everything okay?”, Zayn asks him on the other side.

“Uh, something happened. y/n wants to go home, could you come pick her up?”

“Of course! I’ll be there in two minutes, what do you mean something happened? What did you do? Is she okay?”

Harry takes a deep breath, swallowing his urge to snap back at Zayn for assuming the worst from him. “Just get here, okay?”

Zayn was there in less than 2 minutes. His gaze landed on his best friend, and he rushed to her side, “y/n, god I’m so sorry I should have been here. Are you okay?” He sits on the seat right next to her and she lets go of Harry’s hand to hug Zayn as his arms wrap around her, pulling her into his embrace. She let herself melt into his arms, the tension in her back easing only slightly. Her hands gripped the fabric of his shirt like an anchor.

“Zayn..”

“I’m here, shh..”, Zayn soothes, and Harry watches. Zayn narrowed his eyes at him. “The fuck did you do?”

“Nothing. I-”

“You were the only one with her. Did you say something to her? She-”

“-Zayn. No, no..Harry helped.”, y/n manages to get out. “Stop, please. Wanna go home.”

“Okay.”, he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s get out of here.”

Then she left with Zayn, his arm tight around her shoulders as they disappeared down the hallway.

Harry sat back down in the empty room, wishing he could go with them. But he also could not stop wondering what had made her feel so horrible.

___________________________________

The ride home was quiet.

Zayn glanced at her now and then from the driver’s seat, his hand resting on the gearshift near hers, not touching, just there. She hadn’t said a word since leaving the college. She just curled into the passenger seat, Harry’s oversized hoodie still wrapped around her, face turned to the window.

He wanted to ask. God, he wanted to ask.

But he didn’t.

She was safe now. That had to be enough.

When they pulled into the driveway, he helped her out of the car without a word. y/n walked slowly, like she wasn’t fully in her body yet. Zayn opened the door with the key her mom had given him long ago and guided her inside.

“y/n?” her mother called from the kitchen, footsteps approaching. “Sweetheart, you’re-”

She stopped when she saw her daughter.

y/n didn’t speak. Didn’t explain. Just walked forward until she reached her mother, burying her face into her chest, arms wrapping tightly around her waist.

“Oh, baby,” her mom whispered, immediately holding her close. “It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

y/n didn’t cry this time. She was past the peak of the wave now, just exhausted. Her knees buckled slightly, and her mom led her gently to the couch.y/n curled up beside her, resting her head in her mother’s lap like she used to as a child. Her mother ran fingers through her hair, slow and rhythmic, not asking a thing.

Zayn stood off to the side for a moment, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

He wanted answers.

But y/n’s face was soft now, her eyes already slipping closed, comforted by the only two people in the world she’d let see her undone.

So he just said, “She didn’t say what happened. But she was shaking. Panicked. I think… she saw something.”

Her mom nodded, expression serious, but not surprised. “She’ll talk when she’s ready.”

Zayn lingered for a moment more, then nodded and sat nearby, close enough to be there, far enough to give her space.

And y/n, wrapped in silence and soft hands, finally let sleep take her.

______________________________

y/n sat on the low stone ledge outside the library, her notebook open in her lap but untouched. The page was blank, just like her mind.

Well, not blank. Crowded. With thoughts. With guilt. With her.

Leah’s smile in class that morning had been bright, too bright, wrapped around Darren’s arm like nothing had ever happened. Like he hadn’t grabbed her. Like she hadn’t flinched.

Maybe it wasn’t what she thought. Maybe it was just a fight. Maybe Leah wanted to stay. Maybe it wasn’t her place to interfere.But then again… her father had smiled in front of people too. That hadn’t stopped what happened when the doors closed.

She glanced around, eyes scanning for Zayn like she always did. But he wasn’t there today. She was alone.

Or… so she thought.

“Hey.”

She flinched slightly at the familiar voice.

Harry.

Of course.

She kept her head down, tried to focus on her notebook like she was busy, like nothing had happened. But her hands gave her away, stiff, tight around the pen.

He walked over slowly, giving her room. “Hey,” he said again, softer this time. “Can we talk?”

She shook her head, almost immediately. “I’m fine.”

Harry sat beside her anyway, not close enough to overwhelm, but close enough that she’d know he wasn’t leaving.

“You don’t have to pretend with me.”

y/n didn’t answer. Her eyes stayed on the page.

He waited for a beat. “You think I see you differently now.”

She looked up, startled.

“You think because I saw you upset, or scared, or hurting… I see you as broken,” Harry said, his voice calm but clear. “Or weird. Or… whatever other word you’ve been called before.”

She didn’t deny it.

Her fingers curled into the edge of her hoodie sleeve. “I don’t… I don’t want you to think I’m… like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like a freak.”

The word hit the air like a dropped glass.

Harry turned fully toward her then, eyebrows drawn together. “You’re not.”

She scoffed and looked away.

“I mean it,” he said firmly. “You’re not. And I’m not like them.”

Her eyes flicked back to his, cautious.

He wasn’t saying it to make her feel better. He meant it. That was the difference. He wasn’t talking to her like she was fragile, just like someone who mattered.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened, but if somebody hurt you..I-” Harry took a breath, thinking of the right words. “I would like to have a word with them.”

y/n cracked a small smile. “Why?”

“Cause you’re my friend, duh? Friends stand up for each other, Cherry.” Her smile widens when she hears that. From the time she can remember, she only had Zayn as a friend. y/n hadn’t had the time to discuss with Zayn or her mom about what had happened, so she was hesitant to tell Harry. But then she remembers how sweet he was yesterday, giving her his hoodie and holding her hand.

“I saw Darren and Leah fighting.”, she says, motioning for Harry to come closer and listen. He does, already about to make a comment about Darren but he thinks it’s better to let her complete. 

“He grabbed her wrist and spoke to her very rudely. Very rude. Mean. She was holding a hand to her cheek..so maybe he hit her? I don’t know. But it wasn’t right.”

Harry runs a hand through his hair. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he did. Darren’s not a good guy, always picking up fights and being mean. I thought he was good with Leah though..I mean, the way they make it seem..anyway, what are you going to do about it?”

“I think I should talk to Leah.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “Then we can confront Darren. He’s in the football team, you know, always upto no good. He acts like he’s better than everyone and doesn’t really gel with the team. One more strike and the coach will throw him out of the team.”

“Mean.”, y/n repeats, and Harry smiles, watching her lips press in a small pout, expressing her displeasure. Her hair wasn’t in her usual braid today, it was pulled back in a pony, the gentle wind making her repeatedly push the loose strands away from her face. Harry found it really cute.

Her watch beeped, and she started packing her things. “Which class do you have now?”, Harry asks.

“No class. I have nothing until noon. I’m gonna take a walk.”, she tells him, standing up.”Lake behind the library, I like it there.”

“Oh the hook up spot?”, Harry smirks and she rolls her eyes. “There won’t be many at this time..I hope.”

Harry chuckled and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Can I come along? I’ll stay quiet.”

y/n shrugged, she was starting to feel like he wasn’t so annoying after all. She walked beside Harry, her hands tucked in the sleeves of her cardigan, eyes lighting up every time she spotted a familiar plant poking through the underbrush.

"That's mugwort," she said, pointing to a patch of tall, silvery-green leaves. "People used to believe it protected travelers from getting lost. And nightmares, too, if you put it under your pillow."

Harry glanced at her, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile. "Maybe I should start carrying some around. I get lost in the campus parking lot at least twice a week."

She smiled, a small huff of amusement escaping her. Harry kept pace with her, not rushing, just... listening. He liked how her voice changed when she talked about things she cared about. He liked how she noticed the tiny details no one else seemed to.

They rounded a bend in the path, where rain from the day before had left a muddy puddle stretching across the trail. y/n tried to step around it, but her foot caught the edge of a slippery rock. She gasped, arms flailing slightly as she tipped sideways.

Harry reacted instantly, catching her by the waist before she could fall. "Whoa! I got you," he said, steadying her easily.

For a second, they just looked at each other. Her breath shallow from the near-miss, his hands still holding her carefully like she might shatter if he let go too fast. Then, slowly, their fingers slid together. He didn’t pull away, and neither did she.

The path continued, but now they walked hand in hand.

Y/N’s heart beat a little faster, not from the fall, but from the warmth of his palm in hers. She wasn’t used to this kind of touch. But it didn’t feel overwhelming. It felt... grounding.

Harry noticed the way her eyes darted occasionally, like she was still carrying yesterday’s stormclouds. So he squeezed her hand lightly. “Hey, want to hear something kind of dumb?” he offered, his voice playful.

She looked up at him cautiously. “Okay.”

“So, my freshman year, I thought the ‘honors’ lounge was just, like... a really fancy bathroom. I went in there with shampoo and a towel because I thought it had showers or something. Walked in on two people studying thermodynamics while I was holding a loofah.”

She blinked. Then snorted.

Harry grinned. “Yeah. I ran. Fast. Left the loofah behind. I think someone still uses it as a paperweight.”

A soft laugh escaped her, and she covered her mouth, shaking her head.

“That’s... ridiculous,” she said, a little shyly. She realized slowly that Harry shared a piece of information so that she doesn’t have to feel embarrassed. She stole a glance at him, his curls bouncing a little as he walked, his eyes scanning the path ahead but occasionally flicking down to where their hands met. Every time he did, the corner of his mouth quirked, like he couldn’t help but smile at it.

“Um, do you like board games?”, she asked quickly, before she could take back what she was going to ask him.

“Board games? Yeah, sure, why?”, Harry was a little surprised but her answers nevertheless.

“There’s a thing we do on Fridays, Zayn and I. We go to a club for board games, like you know, book clubs. Mostly we go there for snacks. They’re really good.”, she rambles. “Would you, um like to join?”

Harry grinned. He couldn’t imagine how in the beginning he just wanted to get the mentorship classes done as soon as he could to get his extra credit and now he was getting happy the quiet girl is inviting him to something.

“I’m in, you had me at snacks. Are you sure Zayn will be alright with it though? He doesn’t like me very much.”

“Don’t worry about him.”, y/n assures, sitting down on one of the benches near the lake and taking a deep breath as she looks at the still water. It always made her calm. Harry sat next to her quietly until he had to run off for football practice.

_____________________________

Y/N’s stomach twisted.

She wasn’t someone who confronted people. Conflict made her skin buzz with static. But the image wouldn’t leave her. Leah flinching, Darren’s fingers digging into her wrist, the mark on her cheek.

Y/N stepped forward before she could overthink it.

“Leah,” she said, voice a little higher than normal.

Leah turned, pleasantly surprised. She was walking with her friends to the canteen.

“Can we talk?” y/n asked.

Leah’s smile faltered just a fraction. But she nodded.

Once they were out of earshot, y/n fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve.

“I saw what happened,” she said plainly. “Yesterday. With Darren.”

Leah froze. “W-What, what do you mean?”

y/n continued before she could back out. “You don’t have to explain. Or say anything you’re not ready to. But I just want you to know… I noticed. And I believe you. Even if you’re not ready to say it out loud.”

Leah’s throat moved like she was trying to swallow a stone.

“You saw him?” she whispered. “But… it’s not usually like that. He just-he gets stressed. And sometimes I push his buttons and-”

“No one deserves to be hurt,” y/n said softly, her voice trembling but steady. “Even when it looks like love on the outside.”

Leah’s eyes welled up, and she turned away quickly, brushing at her face. “H-He loves me, you don’t know us. I have to go now.”

“Leah-”

“It’s none of your business, okay? Just stay out of it.”, she said harshly, and then added a quiet, “Please.”

Then she went. y/n sighed watching her go. She couldn’t just leave it like that, knowing that someone is being hurt. Leah trusts Darren too much, she’s blindly in love. y/n thought about what she could do but couldn’t come up with anything. Maybe she’ll ask Zayn and Harry for suggestions. 

__________________________

Harry wiped sweat from his forehead with the hem of his shirt, catching sight of Zayn near the vending machines. He almost didn’t say anything, but something gnawed at him.

The way y/n’s breathing had hitched like her whole system had short-circuited.

He walked over.

“Hey.”

Zayn turned, expression neutral. “Hey, Styles.”

Harry glanced around. No one was close enough to hear.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, quieter now.

Zayn folded his arms. “About y/n?”

Harry nodded.

“She told me what she saw, but I felt like there was more to it. I didn’t ask her. I figured if she wanted to tell me, she would. But… I’ve been thinking about it. It wasn’t just sensory overload, was it?”

Zayn studied him for a long moment. Not suspicious, more like measuring how much truth Harry could hold.

“You’re right,” he said finally. “What she saw reminded her of… stuff.”

Harry tilted his head. “What kind of stuff?”

Zayn exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening.

“Her dad used to hurt her mum. Bad. Like hospital bad. When he found out Y/N was autistic, he blamed her for everything, said she was the reason their lives were hard. He left not long after, but not before doing damage that stuck.”

Harry felt his stomach drop.

“He told her she was broken,” Zayn added, voice thick now. “That no one would ever love her ‘the way she is.’”

Harry’s grip on the edge of the vending machine tightened. “Jesus.”

Zayn shrugged, but there was no casualness in it. “She doesn’t talk about it much. But sometimes, when she sees something that reminds her of it, someone hurting someone they claim to love, she freezes. It’s not just memory. It’s her whole nervous system going into lockdown.”

Harry nodded slowly, feeling like he’d just been handed something fragile and sacred.

“I want to help,” he said quietly.

Zayn’s eyes softened. “Then don’t rush her. Let her come to you. And when she does… mean it.”

Harry met his gaze. “I do.”

Zayn gave a short nod, like he’d come to a decision. “She trusts you. I don’t know how fast that happened, but… it means something. Don’t screw it up.”

Then he turned and walked off, leaving Harry alone by the vending machine, the hum of the gym dull in his ears.

He stood there for a moment, hands braced against the metal, heart thudding a little too hard.

He had known there was something more to her, not in a fragile way, but in a layered way. y/n moved through the world like someone who’d had to build her own armor. Not hard-edged, just precise. Measured. Honest in a way that most people weren’t brave enough to be.

And now he understood a little more of why.

She’d let him see the cracks. Not all of them. But enough.

Enough to make him feel the weight of it in his chest, not in a way that scared him off, but in the way you feel when someone trusts you with something real. Something that matters.

Harry pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and let out a breath. God. He really liked her

______________________________

Please let me know if there are any changes to be made to the tag list.

“Harry! Pub later?” one of the guys shouted.

He didn’t look up. “Nah, got plans.”

He typed quickly.

Okay. I’m here if you need anything.

He hit send.

Then stared at it.

He could picture her room. Curtains half drawn. Blanket up to her chin. That distant look in her eyes when everything got too much. He didn’t care about going out. He just wanted to sit with her.

“Captain, you coming?” another teammate called.

“In a sec.”

But instead of heading toward the locker room, he grabbed his bag and walked toward his car. On the way, he stopped at the bakery.

“Blueberry crumble?” the woman behind the counter asked.

He grinned. “Yeah. The ones with the extra topping.”

“For your girl?”

He tried not to look too pleased. “Maybe.”

____________________________________

The doorbell startled her. Her heart jumped. She wasn’t expecting anyone. It rang again. Softer.

She groaned before walking to the door slowly.

When she opened it, sunlight spilled around him.

Hair messy. Hoodie slung over his shoulder. Paper bag in hand. His expression softened instantly.

“Hello,” he said gently.

“Hi..Harry. You should..”, she turns back to see the clock. “Be at practice.”

“I got off early! And I took a quick shower in the locker rooms so I don’t stink, don’t worry.”

She ignores the joke, and observes how her mind quietened down just seeing him. “I..I don’t think I can go out today. Mm..tired.”, she tries to explain to him but falls short.

“That’s okay, love, we don’t have to go anywhere. Just wanted to be with you. You know I can be very entertaining indoors.”, he wiggles his eyebrows.

She glanced at the paper bag.

He lifted it slightly. “Also, I brought emotional support muffins.”

Her lips twitched. There it was. That tiny smile.

“Bribery works huh?”, he added quietly, as she stepped aside to let him. 

She looks at him, curly brown hair still damp from his shower, he smelled fresh and of the outdoors, wearing one of his frat boy hoodies. 

“You look pretty.”, he says, giving her one of those beautiful smiles that she adores. The dimples and the golden in his eyes just shining a little brighter. 

“T-Thanks.”, she tucks her hair behind her ear, quickly turning her gaze away from his. He takes her hand in his, slowly, delicately, and brings it up to his lips, brushing his soft pink lips over her knuckles. He didn’t know how she felt about kisses, and hugs this morning, so he kept it simple but meaningful, with a kiss to the back of her hand.

She blushes, before pulling her hand back. Harry chuckles, “My shy baby.” He notices her hair, which she usually likes to keep in a braid so that it doesn’t get in her face when she’s doing something, was today just left open. He thought she looked beautiful, as always, but that was another sign he picked up, that she must not be feeling great.

“Were you lying down sweetheart? Sorry I disturbed.”, Harry apologizes, noticing the creases on her shirt from laying in one position, and one side of her cheek was slightly red.

“S’okay. W-What..what do you want to do?”, she asks, picking at her shirt, then groaning softly as sunlight from a window in the living room hit her straight in the face, and she remembered what a horrible day she had been having. 

“We don’t have to do anything. Is it the light? Are you sick?”, he asks, concerned as cups her cheek. 

“Yes..no, just tired. Sorry.”, she mumbles, leaning her face into the warmth of his palm. 

“Don’t be, love. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”, Harry says, and she gladly walks towards her bedroom and he follows her. She quietly crawls back in bed, but moves to the side, her way of letting him know he can join her.

Harry kept the cover on her bedside table, then got in next to her too. He left some space between them but she closed it, giving him his cue. 

His arm wrapped gently around her. Not squeezing. Just there. “Hey Cherry.”, he whispers fondly, calling her by the nickname he’d given her.

She finally looks at him, giving him eye contact, and his smile brightens. “Harry.”, she whispers back his name. “Hi Harry.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to her forehead and her eyes flutter close immediately. “I’m right here, darling. I love you.”

“I love you too.”, she whispers back. He felt the tension in her shoulders. The shallow breathing, the way her fingers twitched. He matched her breaths silently for a while. 

After a few minutes, she whispered, “Can you talk?”

He smiled softly against her hair.

“Yeah. Got loads to say actually. Nearly got kicked off the team today.”

Her eyes flickered open slightly.

“Why?”

“Because,” he said gravely, “I heroically saved Ray from public humiliation.”

A pause.

“Explain.”

“So,” Harry began, shifting slightly so she could hear him better, “Ray decided today was the day he’d prove himself as a ‘natural striker.’ Which he is not.”

She made a faint noise of interest.

“He lines up this dramatic shot,” Harry continued, lowering his voice theatrically, “there’s like six girls watching from the bleachers. He winks at them. Actually winks.”

She snorted quietly.

“And then,” Harry whispered, “he kicks the ball so hard it flies completely over the goal.”

She blinked.

“How far?”

“Over the goal. Over the fence. Into the car park.”

Her lips parted.

“He hit Mrs. Carter’s car.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Her mouth twitched harder now.

“And instead of owning it,” Harry continued, “he blamed the wind.”

“There was no wind,” she said softly.

“Exactly.”

She huffed, the beginning of a laugh. Harry watched her carefully, encouraged.

“So Coach says, “Ray, if I see you wink at anyone again, I’m benching you.’ And he says, ‘Sir, it’s called charisma.’”

That did it.

A small laugh slipped out of her.

There it was.

Harry’s grin widened.

“I nearly pulled a muscle trying not to laugh,” he admitted. “Captain responsibilities and all that.”

“You would’ve laughed,” she murmured.

“Oh, I absolutely did. Just not where Coach could see.”

She shook her head slightly. He leaned closer, voice softer now. “Missed you at the field though.”

She went quiet again, but not distant this time. He kept talking.

“Tried doing that trick you like. The one where I fake left.”

“You fell.”

“I did not fall.”

“You texted me last time you tried it and said you ‘ate grass.’”

He groaned softly. “Why do you remember my worst moments?”

“Because they’re funny.”

“Cruel,” he whispered dramatically.

She smiled properly this time and the buzzing in her head softened.

________________________________________

Later, while making sandwiches, he called out from the kitchen.

“Diagonal or squares?”

“Diagonal.”

“No crust?”

“No crust.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When he returned, he set the plate in her lap. “Five-star service,” he said. “I accept tips in the form of affection.”

She rolled her eyes, but beckoned him closer with her hand. He leaned down and she gave him a quick peck to the cheek.

“Aw, you’re so cute.”, he coos, giving her a kiss to the cheek too. He settles on the couch beside her with his own plate and she presses play on the movie. While they eat and watch the movie, Harry makes little comments that make her giggle. After she’s done, he takes their plates to the sink and hands her the muffin he’d got as desert.

Then they continue the movie, she leans to his side and he strokes her hair, perfectly content in just being next to her and feeling happy that she’s letting him in when she’s vulnerable. 

Later, when her mom called and she began zoning out mid-response, he noticed immediately.

He brushed his fingers against her wrist gently.

She blinked at him.

He held out his hand silently.

She passed him the phone.

“Hi, it’s Harry.” he said softly. “Yeah, she’s alright. Just a quiet day.”

Harry listened as her mom told him she might just run a bit late. She asked him if he could stay until she got back, not that y/n wouldn’t be fine on her own, she could manage. But it would make her mom feel better. Harry agreed instantly.

“I’ll stay. Don’t worry.”

Another pause as he listened.

“Of course, I promise.”

When he hung up, she was watching him.

“She said she’ll be late,” she murmured.

“Not a problem.” he replied easily. “More time for my stand-up routine.”

She leaned into him.

“I’m serious though,” he added quietly. “I’m here. As long as you need.”

Her chest warmed.

___________________________________

By evening, she was sitting cross-legged with her sketchbook. When she showed him the drawing, he went completely still.

“y/n,” he breathed, “this is ridiculous.”

She tensed slightly. “Bad?”

“Are you joking?” He looked at her like she’d offended him. “This is-this is gallery level. I don’t even understand how you see like this.”

She looked down. He touched the edge of the page carefully.

“You make things look… alive.”

Her throat tightened slightly.

“You really like it?”

“I love it,” he corrected. “I love anything you make.”

She smiled again.

He leaned closer.

“You should sign it.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“So when you’re famous I can say I knew you before you were cool.”

“I’m already cool.”

He grinned. “True.”

Then she shut her book, frowning as she tugged at the hem of her shirt. She usually showers early, loves to feel fresh before her day starts. But today, she just didn’t feel like it. And now she felt dirty.

“I should shower,” she said, mostly to the floor. The day still clung to her skin, heavy and wrong and overstimulating in ways she couldn’t quite name.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her in that careful way he had. Not hovering. Just there.

“You could,” he said gently. Then, after a small pause, “Or… would you want to take a bath instead?”

She looked up at him, surprised.

“A bath?”

“Yeah.” His voice stayed soft, casual. “It might feel better. Quieter. I can set the water exactly how you like it.” He gave a tiny shrug. “And if you’d like, I could wash your hair for you. Just… take care of you a little.”

The offer hung between them.

It wasn’t pressure. There was no expectation in his eyes, just patience. If she said no, he’d nod and step back. She knew that.

Still, the idea made her chest flutter. It would be intimate in a way they hadn’t been before. Vulnerable.

“I don’t have to,” he added quickly, reading the hesitation on her face. “You can absolutely shower. Or I can wait out here. Or leave, if you need space.”

She searched his expression again, grounding herself in it. Steady. Safe. Warm.

“You’d… just wash my hair?” she asked quietly.

He smiled, small and reassuring. “Only if you want me to. I’ll let you tell me what feels okay. I won’t do anything you don’t like.”

She exhaled, slow and shaky, feeling the tightness in her shoulders ease a little.

A bath did sound quieter. Softer. The thought of warm water instead of the sharp spray of the shower. Of not having to stand. Of someone else handling the steps for her when her brain felt full and tangled.

“…Okay,” she said, barely above a whisper. “We can try.”

His expression didn’t flare with excitement, just softened.

“Okay,” he echoed, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

He stood and moved into the bathroom first. She heard the soft turn of the faucet, the rush of water hitting porcelain. He adjusted it carefully, testing it with his wrist the way he always did when he made her tea, precise, attentive.

“Baby, could you come check the temperature?” he called gently.

She stepped into the doorway. Steam had already begun to curl into the air, warm but not overwhelming. He glanced at her for confirmation, hand still under the stream.

“Maybe a little warmer,” she said.

He adjusted it without question.

When the tub began to fill, he added a small squeeze of her favorite lavender soap, the one that didn’t make her head hurt and swirled the water until faint bubbles gathered at the surface.

He turned off the faucet before it got too loud, before it could echo too sharply in the small room.

“All set,” he said softly, stepping back so she could see.

The bathroom felt different now. Quieter. Safe. The water lapped gently against the sides of the tub, steam wrapping around them like a blanket.

“Thank you.”, she tells him, and he nods with a smile, dimming the lights. 

“I’ll turn around,” he said easily. Not awkward. Just considerate.

“You don’t have to,” she replied before she could stop herself.

He paused, searching her face to make sure that was real and not reflex.

He had seen her naked before. She had seen him. There wasn’t anything new about that. And yet, her stomach still fluttered the same way it had the first time. Not fear. Not quite nerves. Just that strange, electric awareness of being perceived.

Being known.

She slipped her fingers under the hem of her shirt, hesitating for half a second. The day had made her feel wrong in her own skin, too tight, too loud, too much. But under his gaze, it didn’t feel wrong. It felt… seen.

He didn’t stare. That was the difference.

His eyes stayed on her face most of the time, soft and steady. When they did drift, it wasn’t hungry or assessing,it was reverent, almost absentminded. Like he was just taking in something familiar and precious.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, not as reassurance that she should continue, but as acknowledgment. You’re safe. I’m here.

Her shirt fell away first. The air kissed her skin, cool compared to the steam. Goosebumps rose along her arms.

There it was again, that flutter low in her stomach. The vulnerability of standing there, piece by piece stepping out of the armor she wore all day. Clothes were predictable. Structured. They held her together.

Bare skin felt different.

She met his eyes again, checking.

Still steady. Still soft.

“Still okay?” he asked quietly.

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her mouth despite herself. “Yeah.”

Each layer felt less frightening than the last. When she was finally standing there, skin warmed by steam, heart beating a little faster than usual, she felt exposed, but not unsafe.

He stepped closer only after she gave the smallest tilt of her head, the silent permission they’d learned to read in each other. She brought her hand up, and he took it, letting her grip it as she stepped into the warm water. 

She sighed as her muscles relaxed, slowly leaning back. The bubbles around her covered her body. 

“Good?”, Harry asks, smiling as he already knows the answer. 

“Good.”, she gives him a smile too, still holding his hand. “The bubbles are pretty.”

He puts a bubble on her nose, making her giggle. “Just like you, Cherry.”

He stayed where he was, crouched beside the tub. He hadn’t let go of her hand, and she hadn’t asked him to. Her fingers remained laced with his knuckles damp from the steam.

With his free hand, he dipped a cup into the bath and poured the water gently over her shoulder. Slow. Predictable. The stream ran down her skin in warm ribbons.

No sudden movements. No splashing.

Just rhythm.

She closed her eyes as he did it again, and again, the soft sound of water filling the quiet spaces between them.

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her shoulder, barely there. The kind of kiss that didn’t demand anything in return. Just warmth against warmth.

“You did so well today,” he whispered near her skin.

Her throat tightened unexpectedly at that.

Another slow pour of water. His thumb tracing small circles over her knuckles where their hands were still joined. Steam curled between them, turning the air heavy and close, but not suffocating.

Grounded.

She opened her eyes and looked at him.

His hair had begun to curl slightly at the edges from the humidity. His lashes were damp. He looked softer like this, closer.

He brushed his nose lightly against her temple before pressing another kiss there. Then one at the corner of her mouth.

Not quite a kiss. Not yet.

The air shifted.

She felt it in the way her chest rose a little faster. The way the flutter returned to her stomach, not anxious this time. Warm. Wanting.

Most of the time, when she wanted him to kiss her, she’d whisper it.

“Can you kiss me?”

Or, when she was feeling braver, she’d tug lightly at his sleeve and say, “I think I want one.”

He loved that. He always had.

But right now something in her chest felt warm and daring and a little reckless in the best way.

He pulled back just slightly, still close enough that their noses brushed.

“Still okay?” he murmured.

She nodded, but her mind was louder than her body. What do I do now? Do I wait? Do I tilt my head? Is there a right way?

The uncertainty prickled at her, almost enough to make her retreat.

Almost.

Instead, she did something she rarely did.

She leaned forward first. It wasn’t perfectly angled. Their noses bumped softly. She made a small, startled sound against his mouth. He froze for half a second, then broke into the quietest, warmest laugh.

Not mocking. Not surprised.

Just delighted.

“Sorry,” she breathed immediately, pulling back an inch. “I don’t- I don’t know if I’m-”

Before she could finish spiraling, she tried again, slower this time. She tilted her head the way she’d seen him do, concentrating hard, as if solving a puzzle.

Her lips pressed to his. Gentle. A little tentative.

Harry went very still.

For once, he wasn’t the one guiding. He wasn’t adjusting the pressure or deciding the pace. He was just… receiving.

Her hand came up to his cheek, unsure where to place it, fingers brushing along his jaw before settling there. The contact seemed to steady her. She kissed him again, slightly firmer this time.

Then she pulled back just enough to search his face.

“Is that right?” she asked, completely earnest. “Am I doing it right?”

He stared at her for a moment, steam curling around her shoulders, hair damp at the edges, eyes wide with concentration like she’d just attempted something very technical.

He thought she might be the most adorable person he had ever seen.

“There isn’t a right,” he said softly, thumb brushing over her knuckles where they rested against his skin. “You’re kissing me. That’s the only requirement.”

She studied his expression carefully, as if checking for hidden rules.

“Did it feel… okay?” she pressed.

He smiled, slow and helpless.

“It felt really good.”

Her shoulders loosened a fraction at that.

“Okay,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. A small recalibration. New data acquired.

Then, because she was feeling brave, because the water was warm and his eyes were soft and she felt steady, she kissed him again.

This time she didn’t overthink the angle. She just followed the warmth.

He let out a quiet hum against her lips, pleased, amused, a little breathless and this time when he deepened the kiss slightly, it wasn’t to take control back. It was to meet her where she was.

Her fingers curled in his hair, testing. Learning. When he made a soft sound in response, she paused mid-kiss.

“That was good?” she asked, genuinely curious.

He laughed softly, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Very good. You’re a quick learner, love.”

A shy smile spread across her face, slow and bright. “You’re a good teacher.” Then she kisses him again, confidence building slowly. Harry let her try whatever she wanted to, he was a goner for her. 

She tilts her head a little more dramatically this time. Their noses bump again. She huffs a tiny laugh against his mouth.

“Was that smoother?” she asks, breath warm on his lips.

Harry’s already smiling. “Very suave,” he murmurs.

She narrows her eyes at him in mock suspicion. “You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m absolutely not,” he says, which only makes it worse because he clearly is, but softly, fondly, like he can’t help it.

She studies his face for a moment, calculating. Then she cups his jaw with both hands and kisses him with exaggerated focus, brows slightly furrowed in concentration.

He makes a quiet sound of surrender. That’s new too.

Her hands slide from his face to his shoulders. She pulls him closer, experimentally. Testing what happens when she initiates instead of responding.

He lets himself be pulled.

One of his hands braces on the edge of the tub so he doesn’t lose balance, but the other stays where she leaves it. He doesn’t guide. Doesn’t take over. He just follows her rhythm, matching whatever she gives.

She kisses him deeper this time, slower, warmer and when she feels him respond, feels the way his breath shifts, she pulls back with wide, curious eyes.

“That one worked,” she whispers, half to herself.

Harry laughs softly, forehead dropping to hers.

“Yeah,” he admits. “That one definitely worked.”

She beams, bright and triumphant. Encouraged, she slides one hand into his hair and gives the tiniest experimental tug.

The sound he makes this time is not laughter. Her eyes widen.

“Oh,” she breathes. “That does something.”

He exhales, looking at her like she’s just discovered gravity.

“You’re figuring me out,” he says.

She looks delighted by that.

“Good.”

And then she kisses him again, more confident now. Less thinking. More feeling.

He’s completely gone for her at this point, letting her explore, letting her set the pace, letting her decide how close is close enough. Every time she pulls him nearer, he comes willingly. Every time she shifts, he adjusts around her.

He was crouched beside her, one knee probably aching by now, one hand braced on the porcelain. He didn’t complain. He wouldn’t.

She narrowed her eyes slightly.

“What?” he asked, already smiling because that look usually meant she was thinking hard.

“You’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re crouching.”

“I crouch very well.”

She blinked at him. “That’s not a skill.”

He huffed a laugh. God, she was cute when she got practical like this,  when she focused on logistics in the middle of something heated, like her brain refused to ignore details just because the air felt charged.

“I don’t mind,” he added softly. “I like being right here.”

She tilted her head, analyzing him. Then, very suddenly, “Get in.”

He blinked. “Sorry?”

“Get in the bath.”

It wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t mean. But it was unmistakably an order.

Harry actually rocked back a little on his heels, caught off guard.

“You’re commanding me now?” he asked, amused.

She frowned faintly, like she was reconsidering the phrasing. “Not commanding. Logically suggesting with urgency.”

He laughed outright at that.

She leaned forward, lowering her voice slightly. “You’re going to cramp. And your back will hurt. And I don’t want you to pretend you’re fine when you’re not.”

His expression softened immediately.

“And,” she added, quieter now, eyes flicking down before returning to his, “I don’t mind.”

“You don’t mind?” he asked gently.

She shook her head. “No. I asked.”

He searched her face the way he always did , checking for overwhelm, checking for doubt. But she looked steady. Determined, even.

“You sure?” he murmured.

“Yes,” she said, with that same focused seriousness. “You’re hovering. It’s inefficient.”

He laughed again, completely gone for her.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m practical,” she corrected.

He reached up and brushed a damp strand of hair away from her cheek. “You’re adorable,” he said instead.

She squinted at him. “That wasn’t the word I was going for.”

“I know.”

The steam clung to his shirt now, fabric darkened at the collar. She noticed that too.

“You’re already wet,” she pointed out.

“That’s because you keep pulling me in,” he said lightly.

She didn’t even look embarrassed. If anything, she looked thoughtful. Harry stood up and took off his shirt, then his jeans.

Her gaze tracked the movement without subtlety. Not hungry. Just curious. Appreciative. She didn’t hide it.

He caught her staring and grinned. “Everything up to standard?”

She leaned forward slightly in the water, giving him a small, teasing smile.

“You’re enjoying this,” he accused.

She thought about it. “Yes.”

That did something to him.

He stepped out of his jeans, leaving his boxers on, just like he always did when things were still slow, still exploratory. He never assumed more. Never pushed.

He stepped carefully into the tub, testing the temperature with his foot.

He lowered himself slowly, settling behind her. The space was tight, but it worked. The water rose slightly with his weight, warmth pressing them together.

She inhaled sharply at the new closeness, then relaxed back against his chest without hesitation.

He wrapped his arms loosely around her middle, giving her room to adjust. Always room.

“Better?” he murmured near her ear.

She nodded, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

“Yes. This is correct.”

He laughed softly into her hair.

“You ordering me around in the bath was not on my bingo card today.”

“I don’t usually,” she admitted. “But you looked uncomfortable.”

“And you decided to fix it.”

“Yes.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

“You’re very bossy,” he whispered.

She turned her head slightly, lips brushing his jaw. “Only when necessary.”

God.

He smiled against her skin, thinking, not for the first time that he would let her tell him what to do forever if she looked at him like that while doing it.

“Are you not gonna kiss me again?”, he asks. She wanted to, of course, but with her back towards him, she couldn’t get a proper angle so she turned around and he shifted, hands cupping her thighs to pull her closer to sit on his lap. She braces herself with one hand on his shoulder and the other goes to the back of his neck as she presses her lips to her favorite, soft pink ones again.

She had always wondered what Zayn was on about when he told her about kissing and making out with his girlfriend, but now she understands how addictive it is.

When her lips parted, Harry deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth. As her bare chest presses against his, she starts feeling tingling sensations down there, her body wanting more. 

They pull away to breathe, now Harry’s cheeks slightly tinted pink too. “I like kissing you, Harry.”, she tells him, and he grins, stroking her cheek. “Yeah? I’m glad you do, cause I absolutely love kissing you too, Cherry.”

Her bare centre rubbed against his thighs, and the feeling was so good, she pressed herself closer. She made a small sound of pleasure, both hands on Harry’s chest. Harry’s hands hold her hips, fingers splaying over her ribs. One hand cups her cheek, to make her look at him. 

“Does that feel good baby?”

She nods, cheeks flushing. “Feels good. S-Sorry I uh-”

“Don’t be, this is great. Would you like me to help you a bit?”, Harry asks, leaving a kiss just on top of the swell of her breast, making her gasp. 

“Y-Yes.”, she answers, eyes wandering towards the butterfly tattoo on his chest. Harry gently takes her chin and turns it toward him, he tucks his head down to meet her gaze. “Are you sure, love? You want me to touch you there?”

She nods again, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Y-Yes, Harry. I-If you want to.”

“Course I do, pretty girl. I love making you feel good.”, he murmurs against her hair, lips brushing his earlobe. “It’ll be easier if you turn back around, yeah?”

She lets Harry’s hands guide her to turn around again, so that her back is pressed to his chest. “Perfect, you’re so beautiful.”, he praises, arm going around her middle and the other hand wandering down to her thighs. 

Her heart beats faster, as Harry’s hand trails lower, his lips leaving kisses on her neck and shoulders. “Spread your legs for me, baby..yes, just like that.”

He goes slow, only rubbing her sensitive pussy with his hand, making her moan softly, her hand reaching for his other one that was splayed across her stomach. Harry let her hold it, while he brushes his fingers through her velvety folds under the water.

“You’re so perfect.”, he whispers, thumb pressing onto her little sensitive bud. She lets a loud moan slip, she didn’t even realize she could make sounds like that, it was like Harry was pressing buttons that she didn’t know existed in her body.

“S-Sorry.”, she squeaks. Harry shakes his head, tilting his head to kiss her as her head leans back against his shoulder. “Don’t apologize, love. You sound so sweet, you know that? It’s good, that’s how I know I’m making you feel good.”

“Oh okay.”, she pants, breath hitching as his thumb begins circling her clit, another finger on her pussy but barely dipping inside her. He’d given her an orgasm twice before, both from clitoral stimulations and pussy rubbing. They haven’t gone further than that. He’s always been patient with her, always stopping at the same invisible line.

Y/N’s head rests against his chest, breath coming softer now, the noise of the day reduced to something distant and unimportant. 

“Harry,” she murmurs, her voice quieter than the water around them.

His hand stills instantly, not pulling away, just waiting. “Yeah, love?”

She hesitates, not because she’s unsure, but because asking feels big. Brave. Her fingers curl over his wrist, keeping him close. “M-More, please.”

“Alright love, I got you. Just relax..gonna feel a bit of pressure, then it’s gonna feel good, okay?”, Harry lets her know, she had told him once that she liked knowing, that helps her.

“O-Okay. Oh..” Her back arches a bit as Harry slipped a finger inside her warm, untouched folds. His other hand moves from her stomach to her breast, massaging them, distracting her from the slight strange feeling of having something inside of her.

The newness makes her inhale sharply, her body tensing for half a second before she realizes it's not overwhelming.

And as he follows her pace, something inside her quiets completely. No analyzing. No rehearsing conversations. No bracing for the next sensory hit. Just warmth layered over warmth, his steady breathing at her back, the water holding them both.

“That’s it..I’ve got you, my sweet girl. You’re perfect..in every single way I can think of.”, Harry whispers against her skin. “Does it feel good?”

“S-So good.”, she agrees, bracing herself by gripping his thigh. Harry takes that as a sign to slip in another finger, moving them in and out of her in a steady pace. She lets out the sweetest sound he swears he’s ever heard, calling his name, “Harry..”

“Yes, Cherry, let it all go..”

All she can feel is warmth building, tightening gently, drawing her inward. It’s different from anything else because it doesn’t demand anything froIt builds so gradually she almost doesn’t notice at first.

Just warmth tightening. Drawing inward. A pulse that grows heavier with every breath.

Then her stomach flips, not from doubt but from the sudden awareness that it’s getting close, closer than she expected. The intensity makes her chest tighten. For a split second, her brain tries to step in.

Too much. Too fast. What if—

“Harry,” she breathes, and her voice wavers despite herself. 

He’s there instantly. “Hey. I’m right here.”

Her fingers clutch at him, grounding herself in the solid warmth of his body. “I think I-” She swallows, breath catching as another wave rolls through her, stronger this time. “It’s… it’s happening.”

“That’s okay, just relax baby, I’ve got you, you’re safe. You can let go..”

The tightness becomes something else, something fuller, warmer. She exhales shakily, choosing not to fight it. 

“Good,” he whispers. “That’s it, Cherry.”

And when it finally tips over, it’s almost startling in its depth. Not sharp, not chaotic, just powerful. It pulls her under in a way that makes her cling to him, a broken sound escaping before she can swallow it down.

Harry continues pumping his fingers in and out of her, helping her ride out her high and he pulls away before she feels hypersensitive.

Her face presses into his shoulder as the aftershocks fade, smaller and softer each time. She grabs his wrist. “Teach me more, wanna make you feel good too.”, she tells him.

Harry’s heart melts, as he presses a kiss to her palm. “Don’t worry about me darling, we have a lot of time for that. For today, this is enough, kay?”

“But you..”

“I’m feeling just as good.”, he assures. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”, she murmurs and leans back comfortably against him. He rested his chin lightly on the top of her head. For a few minutes neither of them said anything. The only sound was the gentle movement of water whenever one of them shifted.

“Alright,” he murmured after a while, reaching for the shampoo bottle sitting on the edge of the tub. “Hair washing time.”

Y/N turned her head slightly to look at him.

Her expression was skeptical.

“Last time you did that you poured water in my eyes.”

Harry gasped.

“That was a tragic accident.”

“It happened twice”

He paused.

“…allegedly.”

She stared at him for a few seconds. “That means it did happen.”

Harry huffed out a laugh and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“Alright, fair enough.”

She shifted so her back faced him, trusting him anyway. Harry squeezed a bit of shampoo into his hand and rubbed his palms together before gently working it into her hair. His fingers moved in slow circles along her scalp.

Immediately, y/n hummed. Harry smiled as his fingers continued the small circles.

“You’re doing the circle thing.”

“The circle thing?”

“With your fingers.”

“Oh,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Yes. Very professional hair stylist technique.”

She nodded like that made perfect sense. “You could open a salon.”

“Thank you.”

“But you couldn’t manage it, I think.”

Harry snorted. “That was rude.”

“It is the truth.”

The seriousness in her voice made him laugh harder. “Whatever happens I’ll have one loyal customer though.”

“Who’s-oh me. But I’m not going to pay you.”

“You can pay me in kisses, totally acceptable.”

She giggled. He tilted her head back gently and grabbed the handheld shower head. “Close your eyes, pretty.”

“I am closing them.”

“Properly.”

“They are properly.”

He turned the water on.

A second later, “Harry!”

“Sorry! Sorry!”

He quickly adjusted the angle so the water ran through her hair instead of down her face.

She wiped her eyes, glaring half-heartedly.

“You’re very bad at this.”

“Hey, you’re the one who came to my salon.”

“That’s because you give good head scratches.”

Harry froze for a second before bursting into quiet laughter. “You absolutely did not mean that the way it sounded.”

Y/N opened one eye. “What way did it sound?”

Harry bit his lip, grinning. “…I’m not explaining that one.”

She studied his face carefully. “You’re smiling too much.”

“That’s because you’re adorable.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

He leaned forward and kissed her temple.

“Trust me. You’re happier not knowing.”

She considered it for a moment.

“…okay.”

Harry finished rinsing the shampoo from her hair, squeezing the water from the ends before setting the shower head aside again.

“Alright,” he said. “Now we wash the rest of you.”

“I can wash myself.”

“I know,” he said gently. “But I want to.”

She looked back at him, studying his face.

“…because you like taking care of me.”

“Exactly.”

Something in her shoulders relaxed at that. Harry grabbed the soap and lathered it between his hands before starting with her shoulders. His touch was slow and gentle, moving down her arms carefully.

y/n let out a small sigh. “You’re very focused,” she observed.

“I’m concentrating.”

“On soap?”

“On you.”

That answer seemed acceptable. As he washed her arms and hands, he kept leaning forward to press little kisses across her face, her cheek, her temple, the side of her jaw. When he finished washing her, she grabbed the soap from him.

“My turn now. No complaining.”, she said before Harry could open his mouth. He smirked, and leaned back. “Okay, whatever you say.”

She started washing his shoulder very carefully, copying the same small circles he’d used earlier.

Harry dramatically melted against the tub. “Mm where’d you learn that technique miss?”

“From someone who claims to be a salon expert but gets water into his client’s eyes every time he washes her hair.”

“Well. Mistakes happen. He must be good though.”

“He is.”, she agrees with a soft smile. “Feels nice?” she asks him.

“Incredible.”

She seemed pleased with the result, until she suddenly stopped moving.

Harry followed her eyes and saw that she was staring at the butterfly tattoo on his body again. Her eyes moved over the pattern, fingertips tracing the design. He let her do it for some time, then  gently tapped her nose.

Boop.

She blinked.“Oh.”

“Welcome back.”

“I got distracted.”

“I noticed.”

“But the butterfly is nice.”

“The butterfly says thank you.”

She resumed washing his arm. Thirty seconds later she stopped again, staring at the little ship tattoo.

Boop. 

She continued washing him, though she paused a few more times to examine tattoos. Each time Harry kissed somewhere on her face while she concentrated.

At one point she giggled again when he kissed her cheek five times in a row.

“Harry.”

“Hmm?”

“That’s too many kisses.”

“Nope.”

“Yes.”

He grinned and kissed her forehead again. Eventually she rinsed the soap off him and leaned back to inspect her work.

“You are now clean.”

“Five star service.”

“Yes.”

After another quiet moment in the warm water, Harry finally said, “Alright, love. We should probably get out before we both turn into raisins.”

He stood up first, stepping carefully out of the tub. Water dripped down his curls as he wrapped a towel around his waist. Then he grabbed another towel and turned back to her, holding out his hand.

“Come here.”

Y/N placed her hand in his.He helped her step out of the bath, steadying her as she climbed over the edge. The second her feet touched the mat, he wrapped the warm towel around her shoulders and pulled it snug around her.

“Warm?” he asked.

She nodded. Harry leaned down and kissed her softly. They got dressed in comfortable clothes before heading to the bedroom.

The second Y/N reached the bed, she dove under the blankets.

Harry laughed. “Wow. Didn’t even pretend to walk normally.”

She was already curled up comfortably.

“I’m sleepy now.”

“You can sleep after getting something in you first.” He climbed in beside her and grabbed his phone.

“Alright,” he said, opening the delivery app. “Dinner time.”

They started scrolling through options.

Harry immediately began rambling.

“Okay listen, Chinese food would be brilliant right now. We both love it. Noodles, maybe dumplings, definitely spring rolls-”

He kept talking.

Across from him, y/n wasn’t looking at the phone anymore. She was just watching him.

Watching the way his hands moved when he talked. The way his hair fell over his forehead. The way he got excited about very small things.

Her bad day felt… very far away suddenly.

“…and then we could get fried rice too,” Harry continued, completely unaware. Y/N suddenly leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. Harry stopped mid-sentence.

“Oh.”

She held him there for a moment before saying quietly,

“Thank you.”

Harry frowned slightly.

“For what?”

“For today.”

He immediately shook his head.

“You absolutely do not need to thank me.”

“But-”

“You’re my girl,” he said gently, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear. “It’s my job to take care of you.”

She studied his face. Then she leaned forward and kissed him.

“I love you, Harry.” she said softly.

Harry smiled, kissing her back. “I love you too, Cherry.”

Then he glanced down at the phone again.“We’re still getting the dumplings though, right?”

________________________________________

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“Damn right I am!” Darren snapped. “I worked harder than you ever did. I played through injuries, I did what I had to. But no one ever looked at me the way they look at you. Even now , she looks at you like you're some sort of savior.” His gaze slid to y/n, and Harry instinctively moved in front of her. “You don’t deserve any of it. Not the team. Not her. Not the life you get to live like it’s owed to you.”

Harry didn’t flinch. “I don’t care what you think I deserve. But you’re not walking out of here with her.”

y/n leaned closer to Leah, whispering softly that it was okay, that she was there. That she wasn’t alone.

Then Darren’s eyes caught the movement. His expression twisted with fury. “You little bitch, don’t touch her! She’s mine!”

Darren’s hand caught y/n’s hair, yanking her back. Harry growled and moved in, but before he could get close, Darren pulled out a knife from his back pocket.

“You move, and this shiny silver is going to slit your girlfriend’s throat. That’s a good idea, isn’t it? Finally she won’t be able to nose her way into someone else’s life!”

y/n’s body went stiff, a cold flood of panic washing through her chest. The harshness of his grip, the way her head jerked back, the sudden loss of control,  it was like her brain short-circuited.

Too loud. Too much. Too close.

Her breathing stuttered. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her voice had vanished, buried under the sirens in her head, under the thick fog of panic. Her limbs wouldn’t move the way she needed them to. Her hands stayed suspended in the air, useless. Her skin crawled under his touch, her thoughts spun like they were trying to outrun something inside her own body.

She was frozen, but her eyes screamed.

Wide, glassy, full of terror. They locked onto Harry’s the moment Darren grabbed her, and it was like a silent explosion between them. Her lips trembled, her chest heaved, but not a single word escaped. She couldn’t ask for help. Couldn’t beg. Couldn’t move.

But Harry didn’t need her to say it.

The moment he saw her face, the raw panic, the complete shutdown, something in him snapped. But if he moved, the knife pressing onto her skin would break skin and draw blood. Darren had completely lost it, so Harry could not risk it.

“Leave her the fuck alone Darren! Let her go, you asshole! You don’t understand!”, Harry yelled, mind working and looking around to see what he could do. He could only hope Zayn had better luck with the police.

Then his eyes landed on Leah. y/n had untied her before Darren noticed. She could knock the knife out of his hand, he wouldn’t expect that. Leah looked at him, eyes still glassy and Harry’s expression begged for her to do something. He couldn’t talk to her though, Darren would notice if he did.

“You really like her, don’t you, Styles? You are always in my way, and your dumb new side kick also did just that, so tell me why-”

Leah finally got Harry’s message. She grabbed her shoe that was nearby and threw it with a cry, it hit Darren’s eye. Harry didn’t waste time, he tackled Darren back hard against the ground, away from y/n, the knife slipping out of his hand. They hit the floor with a dull, heavy thud, Darren cursing and thrashing beneath him. Harry didn’t let up. He pinned him with sheer rage, jaw clenched, breathing hard.

“Don’t you dare lay your filthy hands on my girl, you fucking loser. Did you really think your stupid plan was going to work?” Harry pressed his head further onto the ground. “You don’t get to hurt her.” he growled. “Not Leah. Not y/n. Not anyone.”

That’s when the sirens split the air outside.

Police stormed the building within seconds. Zayn was already there, pointing without hesitation. “That’s him,” he told them, voice cold. Darren barely resisted as they pulled him off the floor, yelling incoherently about how it wasn’t his fault, how he didn’t mean it, how they ruined his life.

But they didn’t only go for Darren.

Two officers also restrained Harry as part of protocol, pushing him back with rough hands and demanding answers. Harry didn’t fight it, though. 

“y/n! y/n, are you okay?”, he yelled, eyes on her the whole time.

Zayn rushed to her side. She was curled in on herself, her hands clenched tight, her breathing uneven and shallow.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, pulling her close. “You’re safe now. Just breathe with me. In and out, y/n. You did it. You’re okay.”

Slowly, the world came back into focus. Her muscles began to unclench. She leaned into Zayn, letting him ground her with quiet strength.

Across the room, Leah sat shaking in the corner, her arms wrapped around herself, crying silently. 

“You’re okay, it’s over, you saved her life, y/n.”, Zayn whispered, and she pulls back sniffling to look at him. She opened her mouth to talk, but only a sniffle comes out.

“I know. He’s horrible, and now he’s going to suffer the consequences. You’re so brave, I’m so proud of you. You didn’t let another girl go through what your mom did.”, Zayn spoke softly, his caramel eyes gentle as he held his best friend, more like his sister, someone whom he has always looked out for.

y/n took another minute, letting his presence calm her, let her body know that it’s okay now. Then she looked at Leah. “G-Gonna check on her.”, she tells Zayn.Zayn nodded and she slipped out of his hold and crawled over to her. She didn’t ask if she was okay, she didn’t say anything at all. She just sat down beside her and wrapped her arms around the trembling girl.

“I couldn’t do anything,” Leah whispered, her voice broken. “He said he’d make it worse if I left. He said he’d make sure I never saw anyone again.”

y/n didn’t reply. She just held her tighter as Leah sobbed, knowing better than most what it meant to live with fear so long it becomes a language. 

One of the lady officers came to Leah with a gentle smile and a blanket. y/n gets up and sees Harry coming towards her, green eyes full of concern washing all over her. 

“Are you hurt, y/n?”, he asks, and she shakes her head. Not physically, but everything that happened reminded her of her father. She was slowly coming out of the state of panic, trying to focus on the positive things, but Harry noticed she was still slightly trembling.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.”, Harry gently took her hand, steering her outside to get some fresh air. She let out a breath once they were outside, trying to focus on the cool breeze hitting her skin, the sound the birds made and of the leaves rustling. Harry stops walking and turns to her, other hand coming up to cup her cheek.

“Cherry? You okay?”, he whispers. 

“I..I think so..Harry?”, she asks, her finger coming up to touch his cheek where a light purple bruise was forming, Darren would have landed a punch.

“Oh this? This is nothing. That little shit couldn’t hurt me.”, Harry gives her a signature smirk.

She looks at him for a second, before reaching for him, and putting her arms around him awkwardly. Harry was surprised at first, yes, he wanted to scoop her into his arms as soon as he was free from the police questioning but he didn’t want to make her more overwhelmed.

He smiled when she pressed against him, slowly and didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her too, bringing her in closer. She leaned against him, she was letting him in. His nose buried into her hair, closing his eyes as one of his hands cupped the back of her head, where Darren had pulled her by her hair minutes ago.

y/n also had her eyes closed, now something else to focus on as she tried to calm down. His heartbeat.

It thudded against her ear, strong and fast and real. She closed her eyes and let herself feel it. The steady rhythm anchored her, his rhythm. He smelled like sweat and earth and fear, but also something else. Safety. Something she didn’t know she needed until it wrapped around her like this.

She didn’t move for a long time. Neither did he.

Then softly, her voice barely above a whisper, she said, “Your heart’s beating really fast.”

He gave a breathy laugh, the kind you let out when you’re finally allowed to feel something. “Yeah? That’s what you do to me, Cherry.”

“Mine’s fast too.”, she tells him, and he hums, pressing a small kiss to her temple. “I like this. Holding you.”

She smiled softly, lifting her head to look at him. “Hey there.”, he smiles at the eye contact, one hand cupping her chin before she can move away. 

“Hey.”, she whispers. “You’re a really good guy, Harry.”

“I wouldn’t have done all this if it wasn’t for you, y/n. I really wouldn’t have cared. I think being with you makes me a better person.”, he answers, eyes locked onto hers. 

“Back there..you um, you called me your girl.”, she remembers. Usually she never gave anyone eye contact for so long, but Harry’s eyes were captivating, she didn’t want to look away. 

“God I was so angry, I wanted to beat the crap out of him. Sorry, uh, was that okay? Me calling you my girl?”

She nods, brushing her thumb over his bruise. “I liked it.”

“Good. Cause I really like you.”, he says, eyes moving to her rosy pink lips. “I can’t get you out of my mind since the day I met you. You’re just so..special, you know? I don’t think you realize that.”

She blushed, wondering if her heart had ever beat so fast. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”, he smiles, every fibre in his body wanting to kiss her. But no, he would wait. They had a very overwhelming day, and she was already in his arms, trusting him, letting him hold her. That was a huge step today, and that was enough. He was ready to take it slow, at her pace.

“I really like you too.”, she admits, and then giggles softly when he grins, and goes back to hiding her face against his chest.

“Aw, don’t go all shy on me!”, he laughs, dropping another kiss to her hair. “Thank you for trusting me. I know this is not easy for you. I’ll never let you down, y/n.”

“Good, cause Zayn will..torture and kill you.”, she says, and they laugh. 

“That’s true, he’s scary when he’s mad. Oh, there he comes.”

“Leah’s parents came to pick her up, we’re free to go!”, Zayn runs towards them. “Oi lovebirds, you scared me there!”

“I told you there was nothing to be scared about when I was there.”, Harry gloats, still smiling as they pull away.

“Sure, I saw Darren about to punch your nose in if I hadn’t walked in with the police at that moment.”, Zayn scoffs and y/n rolls her eyes, taking both their arms and walking towards the car. 

“You both were awesome, okay?”

“But you were the best!”, Zayn grins.

“I can agree with him on that. The very best!”, Harry adds. “Hey maybe we should make this a thing. Harry and his cute sidekicks save the day!”

“What? No! That’s a horrible name!”, y/n giggles, while Zayn makes a face. “Ugh. You ever get tired of being so cocky?”

Yes, they were all shaken up, never been through anything like that. But they did it together, and they will get through it together. At the end of the day, they did save a girl’s life.

_______________________________________________

y/n clutched her bag strap tighter, pressing it against her chest as she walked down the hallway. Nothing looked different. The bulletin board still had the same faded flyer for the student film club. A girl walked past, talking into her phone about lunch. Her sneakers squeaked.

But something was different. She felt it the moment she stepped into the building.

People were… looking at her. Not in the usual way, the kind of way that said, There goes the weird girl who never talks. No. These glances were longer. Not mocking. Curious, almost. She caught snippets.

“That’s her, right? The one who helped-”

“I heard she stood up to him like, actually fought him-”

“Yeah, and Harry Styles was there too. Wild.”

y/n didn’t like attention. She wanted to fold into herself like a paper crane. In her psych class, the one she used to sit in the back of alone, someone hesitated near her row. A guy, Ryan, she thought, hovered with his notebook and coffee.

“Hey,” he said, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. “Is anyone sitting here?”

y/n blinked. It was the seat next to hers. The seat. The one Harry only recently started to fill in.

She glanced at it, then at Ryan. Her mouth opened, then closed again. Talking was hard sometimes. It felt like having to untangle a knot of thoughts with gloves on.

“There’s someone coming,” she said finally, gently. “Sorry.”

“Oh, no worries.” He smiled like he meant it, like he didn’t think she was weird for saying no. 

y/n exhaled through her nose. She tapped her pen against her notebook, grounding herself.

A few minutes later, she heard Harry’s laugh.

And then he was there, sliding into the seat beside her like nothing had changed, except everything had. He smelled like cedar and vanilla again, like safety. His curls were a little windblown.

“Hey, Cherry,” he said, voice low just for her.

Her heart did that soft, unfamiliar flutter again. She ducked her head but couldn’t stop the tiniest smile from tugging at her lips.

He leaned in slightly, not touching, just close, like he was anchoring her to the moment. Then his friend, Nate, the one who usually walked past her like she was invisible, tossed himself into the seat on Harry’s other side.

Nate gave her a small nod. “Hey, y/n.”

She blinked again. “Hi.”

He looked back down at his laptop like it was no big deal. But it was.

Harry glanced at her, subtle but knowing. His hand brushed against hers under the table, a soft touch that didn’t overwhelm.

She remembered the hug from yesterday. The way she had let herself melt into it. The way he’d held her like she wasn’t too much. Like she was enough.

And now here they were. In the same room, same routine but everything felt just a little more possible. As the professor went on, y/n was concentrating on the class and she didn’t realize Harry was staring at her the whole time until when the professor told them to make note of a point, and he was just smiling at her.

“Harry!”, she whispers, tapping his arm.

“Mmm?” Harry rests his chin on his hand, looking at her with a dreamy look in his eyes.

“Make note, this is important.”, she says, nudging his ipad towards him.

“Yes ma’am. Sorry, got distracted there.”, he says, leaning to read what she wrote so he can copy the same. “Mr. Bennet is so boring, your face is way more interesting.”

y/n’s jaw drops open, she doesn’t know how to react to such open flirting. “Uh..sorry? Getting distracted in class is not good.”

Harry chuckles, looking up. “Don’t be sorry, Cherry, it’s a compliment. You’re just so pretty! And don’t worry about me, I will end up just fine if I don’t listen to Mr. Bennet here.”

She blushes and lets out a little huff. “Right. Captain Styles, got everything sorted. I should listen to class, though.”

“Okay. I will not distract you.”, he nods, seriously, and gives her a wink when she meets his eyes. 

“Harry!”

His eyes widen as he holds his laugh in, making a mouth zipped motion with his hand before folding his arms and looking forward at the boring, Mr. Bennet. y/n can’t help but giggle quietly before focusing back on the class.

After the class, the room emptied slowly, voices blurring into one another, chairs scraping against tile. y/n zipped her bag with quiet precision, letting the noise pass over her. She didn’t stand up until most people had already gone. Harry waited, telling Nate to go ahead. Harry had no rush in his movements, just patient, like he understood her tempo now.

When she turned to him, he gave her that soft, searching look. “You feeling better, today?” he asked. She slowly nodded. “I talked to my mom..and thought about Leah a lot. Knife part was scary..”

Harry nods, just listening. 

“But I felt safe afterwards. So..I guess I’m okay.” She hesitated, then added, “Leah didn’t come in today. I hope she’s okay.”

“She will be,” Harry said softly. “She needs time, like anyone would. But she’ll be alright. She’s got people now.”

y/n held onto that. People. It was still a strange concept for her, to not be completely alone with her thoughts, to have people stay.

“Hey, you know I’m here if you want to talk about it, right? Anything.”, Harry reminded her as they stood. y/n smiled, giving Harry’s fingers a squeeze. “Thanks, Harry.”

“Always.”, he grins, and leans in to brush a sneaky little kiss to her cheek, making her flushed. “Is that okay?”, he checks, and she just nods in reply, making him chuckle. 

Harry’s phone buzzed. He checked it, sighed.

“Coach,” he muttered. “I’ll have to explain the whole Darren situation again. I hope he doesn’t kick me out of the team.”

“Why would he do that?”, y/n asks.

“Cause..I did hit him, got in the mess. Not what an ideal captain is supposed to get into.”, Harry tells her as they walk out. “But I don’t care, I did something good, for the first time in my life. He has to see that.”

“He will.”, y/n says. “He’s..stupid if he doesn’t. And everyone loves you, the team wouldn’t want to lose you.”

He grinned. “I hope. Hey, um. After practice… Do you wanna hang out?”

She tilted her head. “Zayn…?”

“Uh, we can call him if you want, but I was thinking just us, yeah.” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “Not a tutoring session. Not homework. Just us. Talking. Maybe a walk. Maybe food. Whatever you want.”

y/n blinked, trying to process that. Her brain still wanted to file it under “scheduled activity,” but it didn’t fit anywhere neat. But she wanted to do it. If she was alone, she would probably start thinking about Leah and all the other possibilities of things that could have gone wrong yesterday. Her heart was already beating out of her chest, like it was trying to say yes for her.

“Yeah, okay.”, she nods, smiling softly.

He smiled so wide, she felt it in her chest. “Cool. I’ll text you?”

She nodded. Then he was gone, long legs and hoodie disappearing down the hallway with the rest of the football team.

y/n lingered in the library, where the world was quieter and the air smelled like paper and time. Zayn slid into the seat across from her without asking, because he didn’t have to. He was one of the only people who got it.

He gave her a look over his book. “He asked you out and you said yes, didn’t you?”

Her mouth twitched at the corners. “How do you know?”

“You’ve got your ‘I’m-processing-a-new-social-dynamic’ face on.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s just hanging out.”

“Sure it is,” he said, smirking, and opened his book again.

“Zayn, it’s a bit creepy how you know me so well.”, she voices out her thoughts and he laughs. 

“That’s what happens when you’re forever best friends with someone, okay? Not creepy. I’m proud of it.”, he says, then narrows his eyes. “You better tell me everything.”

“Zayn! We’re just hanging out. And yes, I will, you know I will.”, she sighs, and mischievously brings a hand up to ruffle his hair. He hates it when people mess up his hair.

Zayn squealed, slapping her hand away as she giggles. “Stop that, not my hair!”

________________________________________________

y/n stepped hesitantly into Harry’s living room, her fingers tugging at the sleeves of her hoodie as she took in the space. It was quieter than she expected, just the hum of some soft music playing in the background and the subtle smell of bergamot drifting from a candle. It was calm, but unfamiliar, and her eyes flicked toward Harry as he closed the door gently behind them.

“You sure you're good with being here?” Harry asked, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “If it feels weird or too much, we can teleport to Mars or something. I’ve got connections.”

y/n blinked. “Do I need a helmet or will you provide one?”

That made Harry burst out laughing. “Oh, you are funny today. I like this side of you.”

“I’m always the same.”, she said seriously, then added, “I just… calibrate slower sometimes.”

Harry stepped a little closer, his voice softening. “Well, I like all your speeds. Even the buffering parts.”

She tilted her head slightly at him, processing the compliment. “That’s a weird way to say it. But… thank you.”

He grinned and gestured toward the couch. “C’mon. Sit. I ordered your favorite food. That place you like, the one that doesn’t use weird sauces or textures.”

Her eyes lit up. “You remembered?”

“Of course I did,” he said proudly, flopping onto the couch beside her. “What kind of guy would I be if I forgot the very specific, clearly-stated preferences of the girl I like?”

Oh this boy was going to make her blush more than she thought was humanly possible.

They talked for a while, well Harry talked, y/n and listened. He told her everything he had gotten to know about Darren. The food arrived not long after, and they ate on the floor with the containers spread out like a picnic. At one point, y/n tried to flirt back, haltingly, but with a sincere effort.

“You have… an appealing face,” she said, chewing her noodles thoughtfully.

Harry blinked. “I think that’s the nicest insult I’ve ever gotten.”

“I meant it as a compliment.”

“Oh, I know,” he said with a grin. “Your version of flirting is dangerously charming.”

y/n narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m making fun with you,” he corrected, nudging her playfully. “Totally different vibe.”

Later, as they sat on the couch again, her legs tucked under her, him sprawled comfortably close, Harry leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She stiffened for half a second, then slowly relaxed into it.

By the time he drove her home, the sky was painted in soft purples and oranges. He pulled up in front of her house, turning to her with that same warm smile that made her nervous in a good way.

“Well,” he said, “this was… the best not-a-date I’ve ever had.”

“Almost,” she replied seriously. “You got bumped down for calling me a raccoon.”

Harry laughed, eyes crinkling. “Fair enough. I thought about taking you somewhere,” he admitted with a sheepish shrug. “Something nice. Fancy. Like… food with too many forks and awkward waiters.”

Her brow furrowed. “That sounds like my personal nightmare.”

“Exactly,” Harry said with a grin. “So I figured you’d be more comfortable here. At my place. With food you like and no forks trying to confuse you.”

She nodded slowly, absorbing it all. “That was, considerate.”

“I try.”

“You succeed,” she said, and then added quickly, “At least today. I’m still monitoring your long-term data.”

Harry laughed again, and this time it was soft and full of affection. “Guess I better keep showing up like this, then.”

Before he could say anything else, y/n leaned in suddenly and kissed his cheek, quick, soft, and just barely there. When she pulled back, Harry was frozen in place, blinking like someone had rebooted his brain.

“Whoa,” he said, hand instinctively going to his cheek. “You’ve never done that before.”

“I know,” she replied, biting the inside of her cheek, clearly proud of herself. “I save it for boys I really like.”

Harry stared at her for a moment, stunned, and then just laughed, heart full.

___________________________________________

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual lunchtime chaos, clattering trays, overlapping conversations, the faint hum of a vending machine on the fritz. y/n sat alone at the corner table by the window, her food mostly untouched as she scrolled idly through her phone. The sounds around her were a little much, but she had her headphones resting loosely around her neck, just in case.

She looked up when she noticed movement in her peripheral vision. Leah stood a few feet away, clutching her tray like it might fall out of her hands. She looked smaller than she used to, like the world had been too heavy on her lately.

“Hey,” Leah said quietly, almost like she wasn’t sure she had the right to speak.

y/n blinked, then gave her a small, warm nod. “Hey.”

Leah hesitated for a second longer, eyes darting around the room like she was waiting for someone to stop her. “Is it okay if I sit with you?”

“Of course,” y/n said without hesitation, motioning to the empty seat across from her. “Sit. You don’t even have to make small talk. It’s a safe table.”

Leah let out a shaky breath, half a laugh, half relief, and sat down slowly. She didn’t touch her food either.

“I don’t know where else to go,” she said after a moment. “Everyone’s looking at me like I’m broken or something. Like I’m a freak.”

y/n looked at her, really looked, and then nodded slowly. “Yeah. I know those stares.”

Leah blinked, surprised.

“I’ve been getting them my whole life,” y/n said matter-of-factly. “People don’t know what to do with what they don’t understand. So they stare. Or whisper. Or pretend like silence is kindness when it’s actually just, avoidance.”

Leah didn’t say anything right away. 

“Ignore them,” y/n added gently. “What’s important is that you survived. You made it out. That’s not weakness, Leah. That’s strength.”

Leah’s eyes glossed over, and she blinked fast, clearly trying not to cry. “It doesn’t feel like strength.”

“I know,” y/n said. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not. It’s okay if healing is messy. Just don’t do it alone, yeah?”

There was a long pause, then Leah gave a tiny nod. “Thanks. For letting me sit here.”

“You can sit here anytime,” y/n said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Even if you bring the weird-smelling tuna sandwich. I’ll allow it.”

That earned a quiet, watery laugh from Leah.

“Whoa, this is the quietest lunch table I’ve ever seen.”

Zayn slid into the seat next to y/n without asking, tray in hand, sunglasses still on indoors like the dramatic menace he was. He popped a fry into his mouth and gave them both a cheeky grin.

“Hey, Leah,” he said, tone softer now. “Didn’t expect to see you out here yet. It’s good to see you.”

Leah looked surprised but nodded. “Yeah. Just… needed to try.”

y/n gave Zayn a subtle look, and he picked up on it instantly. He toned down the sarcasm, leaning forward on his elbows a bit.

“Glad you’re here,” he said genuinely. “No pressure to talk, though. You’re safe with us.”

Leah stared at her tray for a long moment before she spoke. “I just wanted to say… thanks. Both of you. For what you did.”

Zayn looked confused for a second. “You don’t have to-”

“No, I do,” she cut in, her voice quiet but steady. “I was… I was mean to you, y/n when you tried to help me sooner. I didn’t deserve your help.”

The table went still for a beat. 

“I remember what it feels like to be trapped. And scared. And not sure anyone will believe you.”, y/n spoke.

Zayn’s gaze softened as he looked at both of them, protective and proud all at once. “You were in a horrible situation, Leah. That doesn’t make you a bad person.”

Leah wiped at her eyes, clearly overwhelmed, but managed a shaky smile. “I, I really didn’t expect Harry to be there. To help. I mean, we barely ever talked. He’s Harry Styles.”

Zayn smirked instantly, a gleam in his eyes. “Yeah, well, maybe it mattered to someone he likes.”

y/n paused mid-bite and slowly turned her head to give Zayn the most unimpressed stare in her entire emotional range.

He just grinned wider. Leah looked between them, clearly trying to keep up, then her eyes widened slightly. “Wait. You two are a thing now?”

y/n blinked. “We are not a ‘thing.’ He tutors me, we hang out-”

Zayn raised a brow. “At his house. Where he kissed your hair and ordered your favorite food and probably looked at you like a puppy being handed a star.”

y/n turned pink. “Zayn.”

“I'm just providing context,” he said innocently, stealing one of her fries.

Leah laughed softly, the sound almost surprising herself. “That makes sense, honestly. He looked like he was going to kill someone when he thought you were hurt.”

She looked down at her tray, cheeks still warm, and mumbled, “I’m glad he was there. For you too, Leah.”

Leah nodded, her smile smaller now, but real. “Yeah. Me too. All of you, you didn’t have to help me. But you did. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”

y/n finally looked at Zayn, then Leah. “You don’t owe us anything, okay? That’s not how this works. But you’re not alone anymore. So, sit with us. Talk with us. Or don’t. Just be.”

Zayn leaned in and added with a wink, “But fair warning, if you sit with us, you’re contractually obligated to witness their slow-burn love story. It’s very dramatic.”

y/n kicked him lightly under the table.

Leah laughed again, shaking her head. “Honestly? I think I’d like that.”

Around them, the cafeteria buzzed on as if nothing had changed, but at that table, something had. A little more trust, a little less fear. And for the first time in a long time, Leah didn’t feel entirely alone.

_______________________________________________

y/n was already talking the moment she burst into the study room, her voice pitched higher than usual, her hands flapping anxiously by her sides as she dropped her bag with a loud thunk.

“I can’t do it, Harry, I literally can’t, he said I have to stand in front of everyone. With a slide show. And talk. Like out loud. With my voice. Do you understand what that means? That’s public humiliation in PowerPoint form!”

Harry looked up from the textbook he was skimming while waiting for y/n to join him with their communication tutoring classes, yes, they still had a few left. “Uh, hi to you too, Cherry.”

y/n started pacing. “Sorry. Hi. No, not sorry. I should be panicking. He just said it like it was nothing. Like, ‘Oh, y/n, you'll go week after next. Five-minute presentation.’ Five minutes? In front of people? I had a breakdown the last time I had to read my name aloud in class.”

Harry calmly closed the book and stood up, moving in her path. “Okay, okay. Slow down. You’re buffering.”

She paused mid-rant, frowning. “I what?”

He smiled gently. “Buffering. Like your brain’s going too fast for your mouth and now we’re glitching a little.”

She huffed, flopping into the nearest chair like gravity had just given up on her. “I am glitching. I’m going to crash. Blue screen of death.”

Harry pulled his chair beside her, not across. “Okay. So. Five-minute presentation. What’s the topic?”

“That’s not the problem,” she said immediately. “I don’t mind making the presentation. I like organizing things. Bullet points are safe. Transitions are safe. Fonts are very safe. It’s the talking part.”

Harry nodded slowly. “Got it. So the content’s not the scary bit. Just the performance.”

“It’s not a performance,” she said miserably. “It’s a psychological horror experience.”

He reached over and gently tapped her wrist. “Then good thing you’ve got someone who’s done, like, twenty of these. And someone who already thinks you’re kind of a badass.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “I cried in a seminar because someone looked at me for too long.”

“You’re still a badass,” he said easily. “Crying doesn’t cancel that out.”

She frowned. “You’re not going to say it’s not a big deal?”

“Nope. It is a big deal. I just also think you can do it. And I’m going to help you.”

She blinked at him, unsure how to process that level of certainty. “Our next session isn’t until next week, though. The presentation’s due a couple days after that. It’s not enough time.”

“Okay, then we don’t wait for next week,” Harry said, shrugging like it was obvious. “I’ll help you every day. Doesn’t have to be full sessions. We’ll start with just the content. Get your slides done. Then, I’ll sit across from you, and you’ll practice with me first. And we’ll go slow. At your speed.”

y/n stared at him for a long second. “That’s a lot of time.”

“I’ve got time,” he said easily. “I used to hate these tutoring hours, remember?”

She nodded. “You used to be on your phone, avoid talking to me.”

Harry laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guilty. You were just this extra credit thing I had to check off so I didn’t fail. Look how far we’ve come.”

y/n raised an eyebrow. “You did call me ‘robot girl’ once.”

“And I apologized! Many times! But now..” He looked at her, something soft and unguarded flickering in his eyes. “Now I kinda want to spend every minute of the day with that quiet girl.”

She looked down at her hands, fidgeting slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching. “You really mean that?”

Harry reached over and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Completely.”

y/n went quiet for a long moment, her thoughts slowing down just enough to settle. Then she whispered, “Okay. We can try. One slide at a time.”

He smiled. “That’s my girl.”

____________________________________________

The late afternoon sunlight poured through the living room window, casting warm lines across the floor where Harry sat cross-legged with a pile of notecards in his lap. y/n was perched on the couch, laptop in front of her, her focus narrowed to the slide she was adjusting for the fourth time.

“Okay,” she said, tapping the trackpad decisively. “Font is readable. Bullets are aligned. Slide three has been emotionally stabilized.”

Harry looked up, grinning. “You talk about your slides like they’re moody teenagers.”

“They are. Slide three had attitude.”

He snorted and set down the notecards. “All right, slide-wrangler. Want to try your intro out loud?”

y/n immediately froze. “Like… with my mouth?”

Harry gave her a knowing look. “Yes, with your mouth. But only to me. No scary classrooms. No staring students. Just me.”

She exhaled through her nose and nodded slowly. “Okay. Just you.”

“Promise I’ll look at you with my supportive face.”

She cleared her throat, sat up straighter, and began. Her voice was soft, measured, but clear. Harry didn’t interrupt, didn’t correct. He just watched her, eyes steady, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth the whole time.

When she finished her intro, she exhaled sharply and looked at him, cheeks a little pink. “That was awful, wasn’t it?”

Harry shook his head. “That was amazing.”

She squinted at him. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” he said, shifting up onto the couch beside her. “You were clear. You paced yourself. You didn’t read like a robot, which, no offense, you used to.”

“Offense taken,” she said flatly, but her lips twitched.

Harry nudged her knee with his. “You’ve seriously come so far. I’m proud of you.”

Her cheeks went even redder. She looked down at her lap, fidgeting with the corner of a blanket. “I only got this far because of you.”

“Maybe,” he said softly, “but you’re the one doing the hard part.”

She looked at him then, really looked and Harry saw that flicker of emotion again. That vulnerable, open quiet that she never gave anyone else. Without thinking too much, he reached over and gently brushed her hair back from her face. Then, before she could get self-conscious, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Okay, now let’s do the first slide, shall we?”, he says, clapping his hands together like what he did didn’t fluster her at all.

They were three slides deep into their third run-through when y/n hit a wall.

She was halfway through a sentence, something about case studies when her brain abruptly went blank. The next word, which she knew she knew, was gone. Her mind scrambled, fingers twitching on the notecard, and a low, anxious noise escaped her throat.

Harry looked up from the couch where he was sitting cross-legged, instantly alert. “Hey. It’s okay. Just take a sec.”

“I knew it,” she muttered, voice tight. “I had it thirty seconds ago. Why did it disappear? It’s in my brain somewhere, I just can’t-”

“y/n.”

She kept pacing, rubbing her hands against the sides of her thighs. “This always happens. I get one thing wrong, and then it spirals, and then I can’t think, and I panic-”

Harry stood, crossed the room in two steps, and gently caught her hand. “Hey. Look at me.”

She froze, her breath shallow, eyes locking with his.

“Breathe,” he said, voice soft but grounding. “You don’t need to chase the word right now. It’ll come back. But you need a break.”

She blinked hard, frustration bubbling under her skin. “But I was doing fine-”

“You are doing fine,” he cut in gently. “And fine people are allowed to forget things sometimes.”

Then, without asking, he pulled her into a hug. It was warm and firm and sure, like he knew she needed it before she did. His arms wrapped fully around her, chin resting lightly atop her head, one hand rubbing soothing circles into her back. Her cheek pressed into his chest, and all the static in her brain started to soften.

She wasn’t overwhelmed by the contact at all. And more than that, it was something she was starting to want.

The realization struck gently, but undeniably: she craved this. Him. Not just his voice, not just his guidance, him. His closeness, his steadiness, the way he made space for her without asking her to shrink.

She stayed in the hug longer than she meant to. When she finally pulled back, it was slow, reluctant.

Harry gave her a soft smile. “Better?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Want to stop for the day?”

“No,” she said quietly. “But maybe.. just five more minutes of this?”

Harry’s smile deepened, and without a word, he opened his arms again.

_____________________________________________________

Harry jogged across the pitch, his shirt clinging to his back with sweat, chest heaving just enough to remind him he wasn’t sixteen anymore. Football training had gone longer than expected, but he didn’t mind. Not today.

Because y/n was sitting on the hill, cross-legged in the grass, laptop open and notecards tucked around her like a protective shield. She was facing the field but wasn’t watching the game. She was reading aloud, quietly and carefully, her voice low and steady as she rehearsed her speech for what had to be the seventh time.

Harry smiled. She didn’t know he was watching her now, but he always was. Even in moments like this, when she was just mouthing words to herself and occasionally frowning at her screen, she had his full attention.

“She’s out here too?” Nate nudged him with a grin as they walked off the field together. “Mate, your fan club’s growing.”

The usual bunch of girls who come there just to see Harry practice, giggles when he looks at them and Harry rolls his eyes, looking back at the only girl that mattered to him. “She’s not here for me, man. She’s practicing.”

“She’s here for you,” Nate said knowingly. “You ever think about how different you are now?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

“You complained to me for hours about those tutoring sessions. You hated anything that required sitting still. And now you’re showing up to class early, volunteering to speak, and reading actual books. Like with pages.”

Harry laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I don’t know. I think… she just makes me want to be better. Not because she tells me to. But because she is.” He glanced at y/n again, heart tugging a little. “She's so steady. So real. Being around her makes me feel like... like I don’t have to pretend anymore.”

Nate gave him a knowing pat on the shoulder. “You’re a goner.”

“Totally,” Harry said without hesitation.

Without another word, he jogged across the grass straight toward her. y/n looked up just as he reached her, her expression warm, until she caught sight of him in his post-training state.

“Nope,” she said immediately, holding both hands up like stop signs. “Absolutely not.”

Harry froze mid-hug, brows lifting in mock betrayal. “What?”

“You’re dripping, Harry.” She squinted at his forehead. “You’re leaking. Like a busted faucet.”

“I came to hug you, Cherry.,” he said dramatically. “And this is the thanks I get?”

“Sorry, but if you hug me like that, I will shove you down the hill and not apologize.”

Harry gave her his best kicked-puppy face, but she didn’t budge. “Fine,” he sighed, pretending to sulk. “No hug. Cruel, but fair.”

She smirked, then surprised him by leaning forward and brushing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Compromise.”

Harry’s entire expression softened instantly, the fake pout vanishing. “That works.”

He sat down beside her, still sweaty and grass-streaked, but careful not to invade her space. She passed him a notecard wordlessly, and he took it with a smile.

“So,” she said, back to business. “From the top?”

He grinned at her, eyes full of something tender and unspoken. “From the top.”

And just like that, she started again, voice low and steady, his favorite sound in the world.

_____________________________________

The kitchen smelled like cardamom and caramelizing onions, and the air was thick with the kind of warmth that only came from a family kitchen. y/n was peeling potatoes at the counter, focused and determined, while Zayn stood beside her attempting to chop tomatoes in vaguely uniform pieces.

Her mom moved around behind them like a pro, humming under her breath and occasionally swooping in to correct Zayn’s technique without even looking. He took it in stride. Barely.

“I swear, I am good with a knife,” Zayn grumbled, staring at the uneven pile of tomato slices like they had personally betrayed him.

“Then why does this look like a fruit crime scene?” y/n asked, not looking up.

“That’s art, thank you.”

She smiled, her hands still working steadily, but her voice came quieter the next time she spoke. “Hey, Zayn?”

“Yeah?”

“What does… falling in love feel like?”

He blinked and set down the knife. “That’s a big question.”

“I know,” she said softly. “I thought you’d know-”

“Yeah, no, that’s okay.”, he says, he’s used to her asking many questions and he’s more than happy to answer.

He leaned his hip against the counter, looking thoughtful. “It’s… weird, at first. It sneaks up on you. You start noticing the little things about someone. How they say certain words, or how they look when they’re focused, or how they laugh when they’re trying not to laugh. And then one day, it just hits you. That you’d rather be with them, doing nothing, than be anywhere else doing something incredible.”

y/n was quiet, her hands paused over the potatoes.

“It’s terrifying, too,” he added. “Because it makes you vulnerable. But it’s also… peaceful. Like, when you’re with them, the noise quiets down. The world stops scratching at your brain. And even when everything’s a mess, they’re still the one place that feels safe.”

She swallowed. “That sounds… nice.”

He smiled at her gently. “It is. So…” he said, slowly turning toward her with the gleam of a tease building in his eyes. “Why the sudden question, hmm? Has someone finally realized she’s got googly cartoon heart-eyes for a certain curly-haired football captain?”

y/n rolled her eyes, but her ears were red. “It’s just a question.”

Zayn gasped dramatically and wiped an invisible tear. “Oh my God. My baby best friend is in love. My heart. I’m emotional. Hold me.”

She snorted, pushing him lightly with her elbow. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best, actually. You know why? Because I called it first. Look at him now, turning down parties to hang out with you and build PowerPoint slides.”

“I never asked him to-”

“And yet he offered. Unprovoked!” Zayn grinned, triumphant. “Love, darling. That’s love.”

She shook her head, cheeks pink, but she didn’t argue. Not really. Because maybe she was starting to feel it too, that weird, slow warmth in her chest. The way her brain calmed when Harry was around. The way she missed him when he wasn’t.

y/n reached for the bowl of chopped tomatoes and gave Zayn a look. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re in denial.”

She smirked. “Love is patient, right?”

Zayn grinned. “Love is patient, love is kind… love also gets teased relentlessly by me until it kisses that floppy-haired boy.”

“Okay out,” her mom interrupted from behind, waving a spoon. “You two are banned. Go be dramatic somewhere else.”

Zayn cackled all the way out of the kitchen.

____________________________________________

The world felt hushed.

They were sitting beneath a tall tree on campus. y/n was curled beside Harry with her sketchbook on her knees, pencil moving gently across the page in calm, focused strokes. Harry sat next to her, one knee bent, leaning back on his palms, watching her like she was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.

She hadn’t said much for the past ten minutes, but Harry didn’t mind. He never did. Being near her, even in silence, always made him feel like the world was softer, simpler. Safe.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she added shading to a corner of the page, completely lost in her own head. Harry smiled to himself. That little wrinkle between her eyes? He loved that wrinkle. It meant her brain was somewhere magical.

Suddenly, she paused mid-sketch, her eyes catching something on the ground. She tilted her head.

“Why do ants bump into each other like that?” she asked aloud, more to herself than to him. “They just run straight into one another and then keep going. Like they’re… trading tiny ant data before carrying on.”

Harry leaned forward, grinning. “Trading ant data?”

“Yeah,” she said, matter-of-factly, still watching them. “Like one’s like ‘Hey, crumbs that way,’ and the other’s like ‘Cool, thanks.’ And then they just continue on their weird little quests.”

Harry laughed. “I love your brain.”

She blinked, looking up at him. “You… what?”

He reached over, thumb gently brushing against her cheek, and he lets his fingers rest there. His eyes didn’t leave hers.

“I love you,” he said quietly. “I know that might sound sudden, and you don’t have to say anything back. Seriously. No pressure. I just… I want you to know. That I love the way you see the world. I love how you think and talk and ramble and create, Cherry. I love you.”

y/n stared at him, eyes wide, and for a second her lips parted like she might respond, but no words came. She wasn’t panicking, just… processing.

Harry’s hand dropped from her cheek, but he didn’t move away. “It’s okay,” he said gently, with a crooked smile. “You don’t have to say it yet. I meant what I said. No pressure.”

She nodded slowly, her fingers tightening slightly around her pencil. Then, wordlessly, she turned her sketchbook toward him.

It was a drawing of him. Not a perfect portrait, something softer. More interpretive. His curls, the slope of his nose, the slight dimple in his cheek when he smiled. But the part that made Harry’s breath catch was the way she’d drawn his eyes, looking at someone with such quiet adoration.

It wasn’t a self-portrait.

It was a perspective.

“How long have you been drawing this?” he asked, voice low.

She gave a small shrug. “Since before the ants.”

Harry looked down at the page again, his chest tightening in the best possible way. Then, without thinking, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

He didn’t need her to say anything back. Because this, this sketch, this moment, her trusting him enough to hand it over, meant more than any three words ever could.

________________________________________

y/n shifts in place near the front of the room, fingers trembling slightly against the cue cards she clutches, though she knows she won’t use them.

She doesn’t need to, not really. She knows every word. It’s the speaking part that threatens to undo her.

“You’ve got this,” Leah says softly beside her, a hand light on her shoulder. The warmth is real, and so is the confidence in her voice. “You're gonna crush it, I promise.”

y/n gives a small nod. Her chest is tight. Her heartbeat loud. Her hands cold.

A knock taps gently at the open doorframe, not the teacher, not a student. Just Harry.

He gives her that crooked, boyish grin she’s come to know so well. “Hey Cherry.” he says, already opening his arms.

Without hesitation, she steps into him. She doesn't even notice the whispering classmates behind them. She notices the smell of his hoodie, the way he presses a steady hand to her back.

“You don’t need luck,” Harry murmurs near her ear. “But I’ll say it anyway. Good luck.”

She nods against his chest. He leans back just enough to look at her, his eyes soft.

“Just breathe, okay? Like we practiced.”

Her fingers graze his. “You’re not even in this class.”

“Nope,” he says with a wink. “Got something way more important to attend.”

She lets herself smile,a real one, before turning toward the front.

Harry gives her a thumbs-up and slips out of view, disappearing toward the side hallway windows.

The room settles.

The teacher gestures for her to begin. y/n steps forward, heart jackhammering.

It’s only five minutes. Five eternal, blinking minutes.

Her voice wobbles at first, but her hands are steady. Her eyes stay on the wall at the back, just like Harry told her to do if it got overwhelming. And slowly, sentence by sentence, she finds her rhythm.

Her words are careful. Clear. Brave.

People are listening.

She doesn't stutter. She doesn't flee.

She breathes.

And at the very end, as she lifts her head, scanning over the sea of faces, her eyes land on the window.

Harry is there, pressed against the glass, trying to be subtle and failing entirely. His phone is raised. He’s filming her.

He’s smiling, like she’s the most brilliant thing in the universe.

And when their eyes meet, he winks.

y/n’s breath catches, but this time not from fear.

When class is dismissed, she doesn’t wait. She gathers her things in a rush, bolts past the desks and students and professor, and rounds the hallway corner.

He’s waiting, just outside the door.

And the second she sees him, those green eyes, the way his arms already start to open, she crashes into him like a wave, like gravity finally gave her permission.

“Cherry! You did it,” he breathes, holding her like he always knew she would.

“I did,” she says, voice thick with disbelief. 

Harry pulls back just enough to search her face. “I filmed the whole thing. For Zayn. And your mom.” His thumb traces a careful line along her cheek. “They’re gonna lose it when they see how amazing you were.”

“I couldn’t do it without you.”, she says, and he shakes his head, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I just helped a tiny bit, this is all you.”

She’s close to him now. Closer than ever before.

She notices the soft curve of his mouth. The way he glances at hers for just a second, then back to her eyes, waiting, always waiting for her.

She lifts a hand to his jaw, her thumb feather-light along the stubble there.

And then, quietly: “Harry?”

“Yeah, love?”

“Can you kiss me?”

He freezes for only a heartbeat. Then his smile breaks into something deeper, something reverent.

“Been dying to hear you say that.”

And he kisses her.

Soft at first, like a whisper, a question. Then more sure, as his hands frame her face, as she leans into him like she’s finally found the safest place in the world.

When they break apart, neither of them speaks right away.

Harry leans his forehead against hers.

“Is that worth skipping class for?” she murmurs.

He laughs, low and stunned. “I’d skip the universe for that.”

Harry holds y/n’s hand as they walk side by side, a quiet sort of giddiness buzzing between them. His fingers brush hers every few seconds like he’s reminding himself it’s real.

They end up at the little ice cream place off campus, the same one he once teased her for ordering vanilla at. Now he just lets her choose for both of them.

“You were really incredible up there, you know,” he says as they sit on a bench outside, cones in hand.

y/n licks hers carefully before shrugging. “I messed up a little,” she admits quietly, tapping her finger against the edge of the cone. “I forgot the second point in the beginning. And I looked at the clock too many times. And I think I said ‘um’ a lot.”

Harry leans in, brushing a soft kiss to her temple.

“You’re the only person who noticed any of that,” he says. “You looked confident. Calm. Like you belonged up there. Everyone was listening to you. That’s what they’ll remember.”

She hums, thoughtful, before licking her ice cream again.

There’s a pause.

Then: “I used to think kissing was kind of gross,” she says suddenly, glancing up at him.

Harry almost chokes on his bite of chocolate.

She blushes. “Like… in movies, it always looked messy. Loud. Confusing.”

He tries not to laugh but fails. “Loud?”

She gives a little smile, then nods. “But I like it. With you. It feels, soft. Not confusing at all.”

His heart flips. He leans in, kisses the corner of her mouth, slow and gentle.

“Not loud, huh?”

She shakes her head. “Not even a little.”

Another beat, her voice lower this time. “I love you too, Harry.”

Harry’s eyes snap to hers.

The smile that spreads across his face is something she’ll remember forever, unguarded, wide, impossibly full of her.

“Yeah?” he asks, like he needs to hear it twice.

“Yeah.”

He kisses her again. And the two of them sit on that bench, trading licks of melting ice cream and kisses between shy smiles, the weight of everything behind them finally shifting into something light.

__________________________________________

The door creaks open.

Harry strolls in, no longer cocky, just comfortable, changed in that quiet, golden way love and growth can change someone.

Professor Langley looks up from her desk, arching a brow. “Mr. Styles,” she says. “Not in trouble this time, I hope.”

Harry grins. “Not unless being early is against the rules.”

She chuckles, setting her papers aside. “I wanted to thank you. I got some really good feedback about your tutoring sessions. From a professor, and I checked in with y/n too.”

Harry’s cheeks flush at her mention.

“You not only showed up, Harry,” Langley continues, “you were a good tutor. Which I’ll admit, I didn’t expect.”

“Neither did I,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

“I’ve got a couple other students who could use the help. If you’re interested. Doesn’t have to be for extra credit anymore. You’re already going to pass the year.”

There’s a beat. Then Harry shakes his head with a crooked smile.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve got my favorite tutee already.”

Langley tilts her head. “y/n?”

He nods, eyes soft. “Yeah. Just her.”

Langley smiles knowingly and returns to her notes. “Well… keep it up, Styles.”

He gives a little salute. “I plan to.”

And as he walks out of the office, no longer the lost, loud college hotshot, but something steadier, kinder, he checks his phone.

A new message from Cherry: “Ice cream again after class? You pick the flavor this time.” A heart emoji at the end.

Harry smiles. Taps back. “Only if I get a kiss too.”

He tucks his phone away, whistling as he walks down the hallway, off to class, or maybe off to meet the girl who changed everything.

________________________

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