#harrystylesmasterlist

"Oh, so you're not? I was just wondering, y'know, cause it's all dumped on the bed that I'm trying to make." He mumbling to himself sarcastically and you feel your patience wear thin. The night in the hotel after a day of travelling meant you, of course, slept badly again, and it wasn't helping that your new contraception was messing with your hormones. All around you felt - irritated, and had a feeling it wasn't going to shake all day.

You don't respond, slinking back into the room cockily grabbing the clothes, shoving them into your suitcase without a word and pulling out a bikini, since Harry insisted that the two of you go for a swim in the freezing cold sea, when you just wanted to do a bit of sight seeing. You'd grumbled about it last night when he suggested it, so he went in a mood and said he'd go on his own. His alarm...that stupid fucking alarm, woke you up at the crack of dawn, however. So you didn't really have much choice.

"At least pretend you wanna be here." He jabs once you're at the rocky beach a few miles out, removing his clothes before slipping into the cold water in pink swimming trunks, teeth bared at the temperature.

"Sorry I don't want to go fucking swimming when I'm exhausted, Harry." You hiss, rolling your eyes as you strip down and follow him into the water. He's doing breast strokes around in the water and you just stay stationary, shivering from the cold you've never felt before.

"Don't you think I'm tired too?" He finally responds as he sidles up to you, running a hand of water over his face. "C'mon, it'll wake you up."

"Could we not have had coffee instead, like regular humans? You don't want to get poorly from this, it's too cold." You sigh, and he makes a face.

"Anything else you wanna complain about?" He shakes his head and when you give a scoff, he swims away and leaves your scowl to etch even further into your forehead. You send a splash of water his way and he just ignores you, wading under the water.

You're out in a flash then, not bothering to spend any longer in the freezing cold. Harry was freakish with these things, his body could take these kinds of conditions; yours could not.

Pulling a towel over your shoulders, you sit down on a random bench up on the pier, to observe Harry's head bob in and out of the water.

A phone camera click drags you out of your dark cloud of a mood and you look to the side, seeing a group of younger people starting to gather in numbers, mumbling quietly and looking between you and Harry. Another phone click goes and you blow out a breath and bounce your leg, feeling more and more conscious as the time goes on. Harry's sixth sense somehow manifests itself and he's clambering out of the water, giving the people around a bashful smile as he towels himself off; a quick nod of his head towards the pier walk makes you rise from your feet, copying his actions of giving the group a small smile. You didn't mind meeting his fans, and nine times out of ten they were really lovely, and just interested in a chat. On the off occasion though, it spiked your anxiety severely, and now more than ever given you're wearing a bikini.

"I hope they don't post those pictures." You mumble once you're out of earshot, walking unconsciously closer to Harry out of nervousness that they're following the direction you walk in.

"You know they will." Is all he says, adjusting the Pleasing bag higher on to his shoulder and traipsing back to the car idling for you both. Your chest tightens slightly but you don't mention it, not wanting to bother him more with your 'complaining', especially after his earlier comment. Your shoulders roll back and you sigh, attempting to shake off your bad mood. 

"You're creasing your shoes. Lambert won't be too happy about that after he stuck his neck out for the limited editions." You half laugh as you point to the backs of Harry's trainers. He scoffs, flailing his arms in defeat, making the smidgen of humour you tried to insert into the conversation disappear immediately.

"Fuckin' hell. Anything else? Been here for half an hour and you're already nagging m'ear off."

The irritation you felt this morning bubbles up to a point of anger and you wrap the towel tighter around yourself, feeling shivery as you pick up your walking speed.

"I'll just shut the fuck up, shall I?" You snap, moving ahead of him. He goes quiet for a minute before letting out a quiet puff of air, like he's blown out his lips before releasing it.

The car ride back to the hotel is silent aside from a few grumbles from Harry when someone cuts his driver off and it jerks the car, and you can feel a pulsing headache beginning to fester behind your temples, your sinuses beginning to feel achey and stuffy by the time you're stripping off in the bathroom to get a shower. The scalding water does a good job at quelling the feeling but it still doesn't shake your bad mood, and you find yourself clambering back into the made bed whilst Harry's off on a walk with Jeff, drifting soundly into much needed sleep before the concert.

You wake to the sound of clattering and open your eyes, seeing Harry bent over his suitcase holding a small pink wash bag you remember buying for him so he'd stop using yours. He's dumping stuff into it with a frown of his face and you clear your phlegmy throat.

"What are y'doing?" Your voice is croaky as you watch him through sleep-filled eyes. He starts, glancing back at you before lifting from his knees, grabbing his tote bag.

"M'gonna get ready early at the venue. I need a bit of space." His voice is quiet and your heart leaps into your throat. You sit-up, rubbing your eyes with your knuckle. Your whole body aches and you try to will away the feeling.

"Space? Don't go." Your voice is small akin to his. You knew that the bickering was a bit excessive today, but it wasn't really a regular occurrence for the two of you, just when you both were emotionally and physically exhausted.

"It's only for today. I think we've both just got a bit of cabin fever, and I fancy a bit of alone time." Although his words sadden you, you can't help but agree. You love Harry's presence, and find yourself lucky to be able to spend his most memorable moments of his tour by his side; but sometimes the bed felt a bit too warm with the two of you, and the bathroom got a bit cramped when you were both getting ready, and Harry was leaving milk pods everywhere from his coffee or you weren't throwing away used makeup wipes.

"Okay. So I'll see you after?" You will away a sneeze before you say it, rubbing your hands up your sore arms and making a mental note to take some painkillers.

His eyes soften but his nod is stiff, him walking over to place a chaste kiss to your head before slipping out of the hotel room. And although it's upsetting that he didn't want to be around you, you do feel the irritation waver once the room falls silent.

"Are you okay? You're a bit shivery, babe." Harry Lambert has to shout over the noise of the crowd as he observes you with his concerned eyes, but your gaze stays trained on Harry sprinting around the stage. You shrug and he places a hand on the back of your neck, hissing and moving it to your forehead.

"Shit, you've got a bit of a temperature. How are you feeling?"

"Not great, to be honest." The blocked nose was impending the minute you climbed into that cold water in the morning, and it finally manifested itself after you roused properly from your nap, feeling like you'd been dragged across concrete. 

"Oh, you shouldn't have come, hun. Does Harry know?" Glenne rubs your shoulder gently and cranes her neck around to find Jeff. You sniffle, shaking your head and wrapping your coat tighter around your body. If someone saw you they'd probably think you looked ridiculous, given the common knowledge that backstage got very stuffy very quickly from the equipment and the commotion, but your fever was making you shiver like you're in the Arctic.

"We went swimming this morning in the sea. It was so cold. I think I'm just quite run down, and being too cold this morning worsened it." Lambert nods and ushers you out of the wing of the stage and back to Harry's dressing room, putting you under strict instruction to wait there.

The show only had 20 minutes left, so you figured it wasn't worth carting back off to the hotel when Harry would be following shortly after, so you hunker down and whip off your own coat, wrapping yourself in Harry's big puffer and falling sound asleep on the sofa. 

Chattering and cheering outside the door shortly later filters into your ears as you sleep, and it rouses you quickly, a cold sweat on your brow swept away by someone's hand.

"Hey, are you okay?" A soft voice speaks and you peel open your eyes, Harry's rapidly falling chest and the glisten of sweat of his neck comes into vision. He's still wearing his stage clothes, as if he ran straight to find you. His face reads nothing but worry and you feel the anger from before dissipating quickly.

"Hey." You croak, attempting to clear the phlegm from your throat. He frowns, brushing your hair back with his fingers pursing his lips.

"I didn't know you weren't feeling well, baby. Lambert said you looked really ropey and had to come and sit down." Your eyes close as he rakes his fingers through your hair.

"Hm. I think I'm a bit rundown, to be honest, H. Must have caught a cold or something." You barely manage the words out with your dry throat and he takes note of this, manoeuvring to grab you a bottle from the mini fridge.

"I'm too hot, can you take this off me? I'm too sore to move." You gesture to his large puffer coat draped over your body and he grabs it quickly. A small smile is on his face at the thought of you grabbing his coat for comfort, rather than your own.

"Shit. I bet the swimming didn't help this morning." He sighs, raking a hand through his hair with the guiltiest look on his face, "and you were worried about me getting ill, yet I dragged you in there without even thinking."

You don't say anything as you swig from the bottle, shrugging.

"S'not like you dragged me in by my hair, or something." You attempt to joke, but you grimace at the aches coursing through your body. He grabs the palm of your hand and plants a kiss there.

"No, but I definitely guilted you in."

You repeat a swig of water to avoid saying anything snarky. He huffs and plants himself down on the sofa, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders.

"I'm sorry I was such an arsehole earlier." You lift your eyebrows sarcastically and he fights a laugh.

"You really-" you pause to sneeze and Harry leans away, "sorry- you really pissed me off before. We need to stop going for each others' throats when we're tired, I don't like arguing with you."

"Bless you, And- you think I like arguing with you? Of course not. I just felt very crabby this morning, I'm sorry again." He looks genuinely guilty, and you're fully aware that the way you were both acting in the morning wasn't a true reflection of either of you. Plus, the cold is draining your body of energy, so you don't have the patience nor the desire to carry on bickering.

"I understand you're just a bit burnt out. It's okay."

He smiles, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. You lean on to his shoulder and fight sleep until he drags you out of the state.

"Baby?" You hum and he cups your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheek, "I'm gonna take you back to the hotel, okay? Get you a nice bath, beautiful."

"That sounds nice." You say softly, gazing at him through your half hooded lids. He smiles slightly and provides many forehead kisses until you're in his car, and lets you lean on his shoulder the entire drive back, drawing you a cool bath (as to not aggravate your fever) as you peel the clothes from your body that once were curing your chill and were now starting to make your body temperature skyrocket.

"Want me to stay?" He mumbles, hands fiddling with yours. You nod and lull your head against the porcelain to look at his face.

"Let's promise not to fight too much on this tour. Don't want to end up strangling the world's favourite rockstar." Your voice is sleepy from the intense calmness that takes over your body from the stroking of Harry's fingers against yours and the lapping of the bath water.

He laughs loudly at that, but quickly quietens down when he sees your wince from the echo.

"Next time I'm a prick, I give you full permission."

"Mm, noted. Can I have a kiss?" You mumble. He leans forward but hesitates.

"You've got the leurgy." His head hovers over the bath water to reach your face and you frown, because although you're fully aware that he needs to avoid getting poorly for his shows, you're ill and still feeling slightly needy. Out of spite, you lift your palm quickly and flick the water over his face and hair, making his jaw lower in shock.

"That was out of line."

"You gonna carry on complaining? The water's nowhere near as cold as it was this morning." Your eyebrow raises and his face goes white as a sheet.

"Okay. Maybe I deserved that one."

Your eyes settled on your boyfriend, who was running towards you with wide eyes. "You won't believe what just happened!"

"What? What happened?" You asked, standing up and approaching him, what can you say, your curiosity had piqued.

"I just got scouted by Manchester City!"

He was barely able to contain his excitement as he showed you the piece of paper that he was holding in his hands.

Your eyes widened in surprise, chancing a look down at the letter and letting your eyes skim over it briefly before looking back at him. "What? Are you serious?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! I went to this football camp yesterday, and one of the coaches was from Man City. He saw me play, and he said he was impressed with my skills and wanted me to try out for their academy."

His dream was finally coming true.

This was all he had wanted since you had known him, and now he had finally got it, you couldn't be any more prouder than you were right now.

You felt proud of Harry's achievement and leaned forward to hug him tightly. "That's amazing, H! I always knew you had it in you."

He grinned widely. "Thanks, babe! I couldn't have done it without your support."

You didn't think that you played a massive part in his journey, you hadn't known him when his football journey started, you had only come into his life recently so really, the ones supporting him where his family.

"I promise to come watch you play," You enthused, smiling at your boyfriend. "I'll be cheering you on from the side lines."

That was a promise.

Harry smiled back at you, leaning forward to press a kiss to the crown of your head. "Thank you, (Y/N). You're the best girlfriend ever."

As you opened your eyes on the Tenth of June, 2023, a sense of warmth encased your body, as you turned on your side and slid your arm around your fiancé's waist, snuggling in closer to him like you did every morning.

The sunlight filtered through the curtains, as you lifted your head up slightly to see that your fiancé was fast asleep, eyes closed and face relaxed, breathing steady.

Today was the day, today was the day of the Champions League Final, and your fiancé, Harry was playing in it.

The final was taking place in Istanbul, Turkey and you had flown out to support him seeing as you absolutely wouldn’t miss it for the world. This was his day and his day only.

You knew for a fact how nervous he was feeling, it was one of the biggest games of his career and he had been explaining to you all along that he couldn't mess today up, too many people were relying on him to perform well.

Knowing that he had to get up soon, you gently shook his shoulder and run another hand through his curls (that desperately needed a trim) so that he would flutter his eyes open. "Wake up, sleepy head."

You watched as the man you loved groaned slightly before opening his eyes up and letting his green orbs land on your figure that was resting next to him. He ran a hand through his own hair before sitting up in the bed and entwining your fingers together liked you usually did in the mornings.

"Morning," His raspy voice murmured, as he pressed a kiss to your lips, not caring about the morning breath you both had. "Today's the day...I can't believe it."

You sat up a tiny bit more, and offered him a reassuring smile. "Stop thinking what I know your thinking and just listen to me for a second, your going to do great, you always do, stop worrying and just think positive."

Thinking back to ten years ago when Harry surprised you with the news that he had been scouted by his boy hood team, you knew that he would be going places one day, and he had.

Over the course of his ten year career, he had scored important goals, but not once had he played in a Champions League Final, the last time Manchester City were in the final back in 2021, (where they were beaten by Chelsea.) your fiancé was injured with an ACL injury and couldn't play. It was agonising seeing him in so much pain.

You found him sat on the sofa, head in his hands, as his leg was outstretched on the coffee table, crutches resting next to him, the tv was playing in the background, but you could only focus on him.

Harry had recently torn his ACL in the last game he played, the game right before the 2021 Champions League Final, he had been looking forward to the game all season and now, he had nothing to look forward to.

He was devastated that he wouldn't be able to play for at least nine months.

"H," you gained his attention, taking a seat next to him and placing a hand on his thigh. "Talk to me, what's going on inside that head of yours?"

"I just can't believe that this happened," He spoke, voice laced with emotion. "I've been working so hard for this, and now it's all for nothing."

You were in the crowd when you saw him get tackled by a Liverpool player. He went straight down onto the floor, holding his knee, and soon had to be stretchered off the pitch by the medics, your heart broke in half for him.

He had to be rushed straight to the hospital for a surgery and that was when the doctors confirmed that he would be out for the rest of the season and would just be back in time for the world cup.

"I know, sweet boy," You nodded your head, resting your head on his shoulder and inhaling his familiar scent. "But you have to remember that they're will be other games, you'll have plenty of opportunities to score in the FA cup final, I've got faith in you, we all do."

"But this was the Champions League Final," He lifted his head and let out a small sniffle as he wiped at his under eyes. "It's like the biggest game of the season...I wanted to be out there with my team."

"I know you did," You sympathised. "And everyone on that team knows just how hard you have been working, you've been working harder then anyone else, but you have to understand that they'll want you to take care of yourself, that's all they'll want."

He then leaned his head slightly against your shoulder and heard him let out a small sigh, another tear falling down his cheeks." I just hate feeling like I let everyone down."

"H, listen to me, you did not let a single person down," You informed him firmly, making him smile slightly at your tone of voice, despite the ache his leg was currently feeling. "You got hurt, and that is no ones fault except that pricky Liverpool player, your still an important part of the team even if your not out there with them in the dug out."

He looked up at you with red rimmed eyes. "Thank you."

You kissed his forehead. "Anytime, baby, anytime."

“Today is the day,” You nodded, placing a reassuring smile, “— are you feeling okay?”

You knew for a fact that he would be feeling a multitude of emotions today, every time he played in an important game, he always got too caught up in his thoughts and feelings.

“I just can’t seem to shake my nerves,” He let out a deep breath, turning to look at your face with solace as he confessed what was going on in his head. “The pressure is just so overwhelming sometimes, all I can think about is what if I make a mistake? What if I let the team down?”

“Listen to me for a second, sweet boy,” You slid closer to him, wrapping an arm even tighter around his waist, trying to ground him for a moment. “You are talented, dedicated and even stronger than you think you are. You’ve been training for this moment for as long as I can remember.”

You heard him take in a small breath as you continued to speak. “Trust in yourself, believe in your ability just like I do, just like all your fans do.”

His gaze appeared to soften as he took in your words, finding comfort in what you had to say.

“It’s such a significant game,”Your fiancé began to explain, voice small. “— sometimes I can’t help but feel this immense pressure, I want to give my all to the team and our supporters.”

You nodded understandingly and sat up in the bed so that you were the same level, the hotel duvet pooling your waists, his bare torso on display whilst you had on an oversized shirt of his and a pair of his boxer shorts.

You rested your head on his shoulder, not before pressing a kiss to it. “You’ve come so far my love, remember the strength and resilience that you have shown time and time again, no matter the challenges that you have faced, remember that this is your time to shine.”

“Your right,” He spoke, the lines of worry that were etched on his face slowly disappearing as he seemed to acknowledge what you were saying to him. “— I’ve worked so hard to be here, nothings going to be holding me back out here on the pitch.”

A soft sound broke out through the Turkish hotel room, a gentle stirring if you must erupting from the foot of the bed you and your husband were currently resting in.

That indicated that your two year old was awake.

“Mama…dada…” Your little one cried out, voice filled to the brim with innocence and affection upon setting his sights on the two of us.

A smile appeared on your face and Harry’s eyes filled with delight.

“He’s awake.” You murmured as you stood up from the bed and made your way towards the crib that your son was standing up in.

Hunter Robin Styles.

Born four weeks after the 2021 champions league final, the perfect addition to your lives.

He was his father’s replica, brown curls settled onto his head, green eyes that resembled the colour of emeralds and dimples indented in his cheeks.

As you scooped him up into your arms, he rested his head against your shoulder, thumb instinctively entering his mouth.

The two of you returned back to bed to join your husband, Hunter scurrying over to his father like the total daddies boy he is and you moved closer to cuddle into Harry, wanting to feel his warmth once again.

The conversation shifted now that your son was on the bed, weaving in and out of words exchanged between the two of you and the laughter of little Hunter. It was a symphony of love, a reminder of the family that anchored your husband's heart amidst the chaos of the final. As a family, you spoke of dreams and hopes, fears and aspirations, all while your little one basked in the warmth of Harry’s embrace.

The conversation once again drifted, this time the past made its way into our thoughts as Harry’s voice began to tremble ever so slightly as he spoke.

“I couldn’t play last time due to my injury,” He spoke in a voice so soft that you almost didn’t hear it. “— it’s been haunting me since forever, but now this opportunity is presented to me again, I’m going to make every second count, there’s no doubt about it.”

“You’ve already won battles no one ever thought you could overcome.” You squeezed his hand reassuringly, reminding him of his bravery and resilience, as Hunter played with the cross necklace dangling around his neck. “— you need to remember that your worth is not defined by an injury, your an incredible footballer and I’m not just saying that because I’m entitled to, me and Hunter love you, we’re insanely proud of you, we always will be.”

Little Hunter looked between the two of you with sparkling eyes filled with admiration, and that when was Harry realised the he had a family that loved him unconditionally.

The hotel restaurant emanated an atmosphere you could only describe as tranquil as you sat at a table eating lunch with Hunter, Anne and Gemma.

Other family members from the team were also in the restaurant, when you were entering you had waved to Jack Grealish’s mum and dad, had a small conversation with Erling Haaland girlfriend and ruffled Phil Foden’s son's hair.

Little Hunter sat comfortable in his stroller after he refused to sit in a high chair, he was staring at his surroundings with curiosity filled eyes.

As your eyes glanced down at the menu, the three of us women engaged in a delightful conversation, halfway through, you spotted your son reaching towards the table where the basket of bread was located.

“Are you getting hungry, sweet boy?” You asked, leaning forward in your seat slightly so that you could meet his gaze. “— our food is going to be here soon, don’t worry, angel baby.”

Hunter’s face scrunched up slightly and he threw his head back with a small whine, his toddler babble mixed with his gestures, making it clear that he wanted to be part of the dining experience.

Harry’s sister, Gemma, chuckled, her eyes showing clear signs of amusement. “He seems to be quite the food enthusiast, takes after H.”

“Oh one hundred percent,” Anne, Harry’s mother, agreed, letting out a small chuckle. “He’s certainly inherited his fathers love for good food.”

Understanding your son's eagerness to join the table, you unfastened the stroller straps and carefully lifted him out. He squirmed with excitement, his chubby legs kicking in anticipation as he settled into a high chair beside you.

"Now you can see all the delicious dishes, just like us!" You exclaimed, placing a colourful bib around your son's neck. "You're officially part of the lunchtime feast."

Our son's face lit up with glee, his wide eyes scanning the table, eagerly awaiting the culinary delights. He pointed at the plates, naming the different foods as best he could, his baby gibberish filling the air.

As your meals arrived, a symphony of mouth watering aromas filled the air, and your taste buds tingled with anticipation. The three of you savoured each bite, sharing anecdotes and laughter, while Hunter observed intently, his eyes fixed on the delectable dishes.

"I think he wants to try everything," Anne said, chuckling as she noticed her grandson's animated gestures.

Gemma reached over and playfully offered a spoonful of mashed potatoes to her nephew.

"Here you go, little food critic," she said, grinning. "Tell us what you think."

Hunter’s eyes widened, and he eagerly accepted the spoon, tasting the creamy potatoes. His face lit up with delight, and he clapped his hands, a clear sign of his approval.

"He definitely has his father's discerning palate," You mused, exchanging knowing glances with the two women you called family.

As you continued your feast, your son became an active participant in the lunchtime conversation. His babbling intermingled with your dialogue, adding an innocent charm to the atmosphere.

Gemma once again leaned closer to your son, her voice filled with affection. "Tell us, little one, what do you think of this restaurant? Is it worthy of a future family gathering?"

Hunter responded with an enthusiastic nod, his face beaming with joy. His tiny hands clapped, as if applauding the notion of future family celebrations in this very place.

“So how’s Harry feeling about the final tonight?” Anne asked, regarding her son as she leaned forward ever so slightly.

A small smile tugged on the corners of your lips as you contemplated her question and thought about an answer. “— he’s definitely feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement.”

“He’s been training diligently for this moment his whole life,” Gemma added, a touch of pride evident in the way she spoke about her younger brother. “It’s such a significant match for him, for the whole team even.”

“He’s eager to get on the pitch and give it his all,” You nodded in agreement, your heart swelling with admiration. “But the weight of the final definitely comes with its fair share of pressure.”

“Tell him that we’re going to be in the crowd and supporting him.” Anne told you.

You knew for a fact when you had a chance to tell this to Harry he would feel a lot better then he would be, knowing his mother and sister were backing him was all he really wanted.

“Of course,” A warm smile spread across your face, you were touched by her words. “I'll definitely tell him his biggest fans are rooting for him.”

Leaning down to look at your son who was sitting in his high chair with mashed up avocado lingering on his hands, you spoke to him, wanting to involve him in the conversation. “—Daddy has a very important football match tonight, he’s going to make us all proud, isn't he?”

Elijah’s face lit up with a radiant smile, his tiny hands clapping together in excitement.

"Daddy!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with adoration for the father he idolised.

Anne chuckled warmly, her eyes gleaming with affection. "He knows, doesn't he? Even at his young age, he understands the significance."

You nodded, a sense of pride swelling within your chest. "Children have an incredible intuition, They can sense the love and anticipation that surrounds them."

As the early evening settled in Turkey, you led Hunter to the en-suite bathroom located in your hotel room, his hand holding onto yours as he held his light blue baby blanket in his hand.

His blanket was a present that Anne had knitted him when he was first born and he still to this day went everywhere with it.

Bath time was definitely one of Hunter’s favourite times of the day. He liked it even more when Harry would be the one bathing him, but he was often at training so he never really got the chance to.

The bath was already filled up, bubbles resting on the top of it and a few rubber duckies and other bath toys floating in the water.

"Are you ready for a fun bath, angel baby?" You asked, lifting him into the tub filled with warm, bubbly water. "We need to get all squeaky clean before the game!"

Your son giggled, splashing the water with delight, his tiny hands reaching out for his favourite bath toys. As you gently washed him, the two of you engaged in playful banter, his infectious laughter filling the room.

His laugh sounded so much like his fathers.

“Mama,” Hunter gained your attention. “— quack, quack!”

You nodded in encouragement as he presented you with the rubber duck he was holding. “Yeah a ducky does go quack quack, you're such a clever little boy.”

About thirty seconds later, the two year old seemed to get bored of the duck he was playing with and threw it back down in the water, and that was when you got the perfect opportunity to put some bath wash on a sponge and clean over his petite body.

Hunter squirmed a little bit and tried to wiggle away from you but you were quicker and knew his movements like the back of your hand and held him softly in place.

Once he was out of the bath and dried off, you decided to take him into the main area of the hotel room where you grabbed a miniature sized jersey out of his suitcase.

“Alright, arms up, angel baby.” You held the shirt in your hands and slipped the shirt over his head smoothly.

Once the shirt was situated on his body, you smoothed down his brown curls that had become slightly dishevelled due to the friction of the shirt.

He was clad in a Manchester City shirt with the shirts, socks and toddler football boots.

Instead of having his name on the back, he had ‘𝙳𝙰𝙳𝙳𝚈’ and number ‘𝟷𝟽’ on the back of it.

Once you had gotten Hunter ready, you decided to take a shower yourself, the two year old followed you into the bathroom.

As the warm water cascaded over your body, you took a moment to relax, the sound of rushing water creating a serene backdrop. Your son, perched on the bathroom floor, watched with curiosity as you applied a gentle face cleanser and let the steam envelop you.

With the shower complete, you stepped out onto the bath mat, a towel wrapped around your body. Your son clapped his hands in approval, appreciating the simplicity of the post-shower routine.

"Now it's time for mommy to get ready," You explained, brushing your damp hair and reaching for your makeup bag. "We want to look our best when we cheer for Daddy!"

Hunter observed attentively, his big eyes studying your every move.

"What's that, Mommy?" he asked, pointing to the makeup brushes.

You chuckled softly, giving him a gentle explanation.

"This is called makeup, sweetheart. It helps enhance our natural beauty," You replied, dabbing a bit of foundation onto your skin.

As you continued applying makeup, your son's curiosity grew. He mimicked your actions, using his fingers to pretend to apply his own makeup, a charming sight that filled your heart with warmth.

After finishing your makeup, you turned to your suitcase, selecting a Manchester City shirt of your own with ‘𝚂𝚃𝚈𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝟷𝟽’ on the back of its.

Tour son toddled over, his eyes bright with anticipation.

"We’re matching, Mommy!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with innocence and adoration.

You scooped him up into your arms, holding him close.

"Thank you, my love. Now we're both ready to cheer for Daddy," you replied, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

As you sat in the stands of the Atatürk Olympic Stadium, surrounded by fellow Manchester City supporters and in a box with the family members for the team members, your heart was pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves.

Harry was about to showcase his skills on the grand stage.

Beside you were his mother, Anne, and his sister, Gemma, both filled with anticipation and pride.

Your two-year-old son was perched on your lap, his wide eyes filled with wonder as he took in the electric atmosphere. The noise from the roaring crowd seemed to mesmerise him, but as the game kicked off, it wasn't long before the excitement overwhelmed his little body. Hunter's eyelids grew heavy, and he soon succumbed to the exhaustion of the day, drifting into a peaceful slumber.

"He's out like a light," Anne chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "It's quite a spectacle, isn't it? I can hardly believe our Harry is here, playing in the final."

Gemma nodded, her eyes shining with pride. "He's worked so hard for this moment. It's incredible to see him on this stage. I'm so proud of him."

The match unfolded with breathtaking speed and intensity.

Manchester City displayed their trademark attacking prowess, weaving intricate passes and creating scoring opportunities. The crowd's excitement was infectious, and the chants of "City! City!" reverberated throughout the stadium.

Anne leaned closer, her voice filled with excitement. "Do you remember when Daniel used to kick a ball around in the backyard? He always dreamed of playing on a big stage like this. And now, here he is!"

That was true, when you first met Harry, he used to invite you to the park all the time and you would always be kicking a ball about with him, now he got to teach his son the same things he taught you.

A roar erupted from the crowd as Manchester City came close to scoring.

Gemma jumped to her feet, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "Come on! Score that goal!"

As the game progressed, the tension mounted. The opposing team proved to be a formidable adversary, putting up a strong defence and launching swift counterattacks.

The match seemed like a true battle of titans, with both teams leaving everything on the field.

"He's playing brilliantly, isn't he?" You whispered to Anne, nodding toward your fiancé , who was skillfully manoeuvring through defenders.

Anne beamed, her eyes shimmering with pride. "He's always had that talent, that special something. It's as if he was born to play football. Look at him out there, giving it his all."

Suddenly, the referee blew the whistle for halftime. As the players retreated to the dressing room, you gently shifted Hunter's weight on your lap, careful not to wake him.

The buzz of excitement filled the air as we joined the other Manchester City family members near the tunnel, eager to offer our support and encouragement.

You watched as the man you loved emerged, sweat dripping down his face, but a determined glint in his eyes.

He approached were the four of you were standing, pressing a short kiss to your lips and mustering how much he loved you, you and him exchanged brief words of encouragement, his gratitude shining through.

He kissed Hunter's forehead gently, whispering, "Daddy's going to bring that trophy home for you, little man."

Back in your seats, the second half kicked off with renewed intensity.

The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as Manchester City pushed forward, relentlessly seeking that winning goal. The opposition fought back, with bone-crunching tackles and acrobatic saves from their goalkeeper.

With each near-miss and near-goal, your emotions soared and plummeted. You all held your breath with every shot, every corner, and every daring run. The tension was palpable, but you remained hopeful.

Suddenly, a collective gasp swept through the crowd as Manchester City was awarded a penalty.

Gemma grabbed your arm, her voice trembling with excitement. "This is it! H, can do this!"

There was no doubt within the squad that your Harry was the designated penalty taker for the team, he was a forward and The Manchester City manager Pep Guardiola had given Harry the responsibility for them.

This was his moment.

This was his time to shine.

The stadium fell into a hushed silence as Harry stepped up to take the penalty. His focus was unwavering as he placed the ball on the spot, the weight of the entire season resting on his shoulders. The opposing goalkeeper eyed him intently, trying to psych him out.

"Come on, Haz! You've got this!" You whispered, your voice filled with hope.

Gemma and Anne joined in, their voices merging with your own. "You've trained for this moment, Harry ! Show them what you're made of!"

You watched with bated breath as Harry took a deep breath, blocking out the noise around him.

He began his run-up, his strides purposeful and determined. The moment his foot made contact with the ball, it soared towards the goal, driven by the sheer force of his will.

Time seemed to slow down as you watched the ball sail through the air, evading the outstretched hands of the goalkeeper. The net rippled as the ball found its rightful place, and the stadium erupted into a chorus of cheers, applause, and chants of victory.

"He did it! He scored!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with elation. Hunter stirred in my arms, his eyes fluttering open as if sensing the surge of joy around him.

Anne wiped away tears of joy, her voice trembling with pride. "That's our boy! He's done it!"

Gemma wrapped her arms around you in a tight embrace, joining in the celebration. "I knew he had it in him. What a moment!"

Manchester City we’re one nil up.

Not only that, but your Harry had scored.

He had scored in a final.

After all the heartbreak that he endured in the last final back in 2021, he had scored and put his team one point ahead.

You were beyond proud of him.

As the game continued, Manchester City pressed on with newfound confidence. The energy of Harry’s goal had ignited the team, fueling their determination to secure the trophy.

They fought fiercely, defending against the opposing team's attacks and launching their own relentless assault.

With every minute that ticked by, your anticipation grew. The final whistle drew nearer, and the realisation that victory was within reach became palpable.

The stadium buzzed with excitement, as if the crowd could taste the impending triumph.

And then, as the final whistle pierced the air, the crowd erupted into a deafening roar. Manchester City had emerged as the victors of the Champions League final. Ecstasy washed over you as you witnessed Harry and his teammates embrace, their joy overflowing.

Hunter clapped his tiny hands, mirroring the celebration around him.

“Yay, Daddy!" he squealed, his eyes filled with innocent delight.

The three of you joined Hunter's applause, your voices joining the chorus of cheers reverberating throughout the stadium.

Tears of joy streamed down your faces as you reveled in this extraordinary moment, a memory etched in our hearts forever.

You Harry had won the Champions League for his team.

With tears of elation streaming down your face, the three of you including little Hunter joined the chorus of chants, shouting, "City! City!"

Your eyes never left the pitch once as you anxiously waited for the moment when your lover and his teammates would lift the trophy high above their heads.

You all watched as the opposing team collected there runners up medals before it was time for the winners.

On the field, the players formed a jubilant huddle, their faces beaming with triumph. Moments later, they made their way towards the presentation stage.

You and the family quickly descended the stairs, Hunter clinging onto your hip with his thumb in his mouth, eager to get as close as possible to the historic moment that was about to unfold.

The crowd surged forward, a sea of blue and white, as you found a spot near the front. Beside you, other family members and friends of the Manchester City players beamed with anticipation, their voices filled with excitement.

Anne squeezed my hand tightly. "This is it, dear. We're about to witness something incredible."

Gemma nodded with a wide grin. "I can't believe it's happening! Our brother, lifting the Champions League trophy!"

The roar of the crowd grew deafening as the players ascended the stage one by one.

Finally, Harry stepped forward, his face radiant with a mixture of pride and disbelief. The trophy glistened in the spotlight, a symbol of their hard-fought victory.

A hush fell over the stadium as the captain of Manchester City, wearing the armband proudly, lifted the trophy high into the air.

A surge of emotions coursed through your body, and you let out a cheer that blended with the cheers of thousands of fans around.

Anne leaned in, her voice filled with admiration. "Look at him, my boy, holding that trophy. It's a moment I'll cherish forever."

Gemma wiped away tears of joy, her voice filled with pride. "He did it! Haz did it! I couldn't be prouder!"

As the players celebrated, their triumphant shouts and laughter filled the air.

Harry turned towards the direction you were sitting in, his eyes finding yours in the sea of cheering faces.

A smile spread across his face, and you could see the overwhelming happiness in his eyes. With a wave, he acknowledged his family's presence, and your heart swelled with love for this incredible man.

"He did it, Mum! Harry did it!" You exclaimed, your voice choked with emotion.

Anne pulled you into a tight embrace, tears streaming down her face. "Yes, he did, dear. My son is a champion!"

Gemma joined our embrace, forming a circle of love and pride. "We always believed in him, didn't we? This is just the beginning of his greatness."

Carefully making your way through the jubilant crowd, you reached the edge of the field, where security personnel guided you towards a designated area for family members. Anne and Gemma were already there, their smiles as bright as the stadium lights.

Harry spotted the four of you from a distance, his eyes lighting up with delight.

Covered in sweat and mud, he hurried towards you, a mix of exhaustion and elation on his face. You gently put Hunter down, allowing him to take his first steps on the hallowed ground of the pitch.

"Daddy!" Hunter exclaimed, his little arms outstretched, his voice filled with excitement.

Harry scooped him up, holding him close. "There's my little champion! Daddy did it!"

Anne embraced you, tears of joy streaming down her face. "Look at them, dear. Our son and grandson, basking in this incredible moment."

Gemma joined in the embrace, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'm so proud of him, sis. He's worked so hard for this."

As the celebrations continued around you, Harry held Hunter high in the air, their joyous laughter blending with the cheers of the crowd. The energy of the stadium seemed to infuse their bond, a testament to the incredible journey they had embarked on together.

"He's so proud of you, Harry," you whispered, your voice filled with love and admiration.

Harry nodded, his eyes shimmering with tears of happiness. "I couldn't have done it without you and Hunter by my side. You're my biggest supporters, my inspiration."

Hunter reached out, his tiny fingers brushing against his fathers cheek. "Daddy strong!"

Harry kissed Hunter's forehead, his voice filled with tenderness. "Yes, my little champion, Daddy is strong because of you."

At that moment, time seemed to stand still.

You were surrounded by a sea of jubilant supporters, but it felt as though it was just the five of you, locked in an embrace of love and pride. The Champions League trophy glimmered in the distance, a symbol of their collective victory.

As the team gathered for a celebratory photo, Harry held Hunter on his hip, their smiles mirroring one another.

You captured the moment with your phone, knowing that it would forever be etched in the family's history.

Lying in bed, the weight of the day finally beginning to lift from your tired bodies, your fiancé and you basked in the quiet afterglow of his triumphant victory in the Champions League. The room was dimly lit, and a soft sense of contentment enveloped us.

Harry propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and elation.

"What a game, love," he whispered, his voice filled with a hint of disbelief.

What a game indeed.

You reached out, gently brushing your fingers through his hair. "You were incredible, Harry. I'm so proud of you."

Proud was an understatement.

A small smile graced his lips as he turned to face you in the hotel bed. "I couldn't have done it without you and Hunter. You're my rocks, my biggest supporters."

You shifted closer, resting your head against his chest. "We'll always be here for you, Harry. You worked so hard for this moment."

He sighed, his fingers tracing patterns on your lower back. "You know, love, after the final whistle, I wanted to celebrate with just you and Hunter. It's moments like these that I cherish the most."

So that explains why he decided not to celebrate with his team mates.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with love. "I understand, Harry. It's about those intimate moments, the ones that remind you of what truly matters."

His gaze softened, his voice filled with vulnerability. "That penalty... I was so nervous, love. It felt like everything was riding on that one moment. But when the ball hit the back of the net, it was pure relief and joy."

You placed a gentle kiss on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your lips. "You did it, Harry. You seized the opportunity and made it count. It was a testament to your skill, your determination, and your unwavering belief in yourself."

He wrapped his arms around your body, drawing you closer. "Thank you, love. Your belief in me has always meant the world. You and Hunter are my greatest motivation.”

You snuggled in closer, finding comfort in his embrace. "We'll always be there, Harry. Through the highs and the lows, celebrating every victory and lifting you up in moments of doubt. You're our champion, on and off the pitch."

His voice grew softer as he spoke, his words carrying a sense of gratitude and reflection. "You know, love, throughout the game, when I looked up into the stands, seeing you and Hunter, your faces filled with love and support, it gave me an extra boost. It reminded me why I play this beautiful game, why I give it my all. It's for you and our little boy."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to Harry's heartfelt words. "We'll always be your biggest fans, Harry. Seeing you out there, chasing your dreams, it fills our hearts with pride and joy."

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you so much, my beautiful fiancé . And our little Hunter, he's growing up surrounded by so much love and inspiration."

You nestled deeper into his embrace, feeling a surge of warmth and love envelop the two of you. "We're creating memories, Harry. Memories that Hunter will carry with him throughout his life. He'll look back on this moment, knowing that his dad is a champion, a man who followed his dreams and achieved greatness."

Harry's voice grew soft, his tone filled with a sense of wonder. "I never want to forget this feeling, lying here with you, relishing in our love and celebrating a victory. It's a moment frozen in time, one that I'll cherish forever."

You intertwined your fingers with his, savouring the connection you seemed to share. "We'll always have these moments, Harry.”

You shifted slightly, careful not to disturb the little bundle of joy nestled between you and your lover,. Hunter had fallen asleep during the celebration, his small body curled up against Harry's side.

Such a daddies boy.

Harry's eyes softened as he looked down at your sleeping son. "Look at him, love. Our little champion, exhausted from all the excitement."

You smiled, brushing a lock of hair away from Hunter's forehead. "He's been cheering for you the whole game. I think he used up all his energy celebrating your victory."

Harry chuckled softly, his hand gently stroking Hunter's back. "I'm glad he got to witness this. One day, he'll look back and know that he was here, part of this unforgettable moment."

You nodded, feeling a surge of emotion welling up inside of your chest. "He's so lucky to have you as his role model, Harry. You're showing him what it means to work hard, to chase your dreams, and to never give up."

Harry's gaze met your own, his eyes filled with love and gratitude. "And you, love, you're the anchor that keeps us grounded. Your unwavering support and belief in me, in us, it means everything."

The two of you sat in silence for a while, enveloped in the warmth of your shared love. The room was filled with a sense of peacefulness and fulfillment, a testament to the journey you had traveled together.

As Hunter stirred in his sleep, Harry's voice broke the stillness. "You know, love, scoring that penalty... It was like a release of all the pressure, all the hard work coming to fruition. But what mattered most in that moment was knowing I had my family by my side."

You kissed Hunter's forehead, then leaned over to place a tender kiss on Harry's lips. "We'll always be by your side, Harry, through every triumph and every challenge. You make us proud every single day."

Harry's arms tightened around you and Hunter, pulling you into an embrace that felt like home. "I love you both more than words can express. Thank you for being my everything."

The room filled with a sense of love and gratitude, as the three of you lay there, a family united in celebration, reflection, and profound connection.

In that quiet moment, the two of you knew that this victory was not just Harry's, but your families as well, and together, you would continue to write the pages of your story, one filled with love, resilience, and the shared joy of chasing dreams and achieving greatness, as a family united on and off the pitch.

As you drifted off into a blissful slumber one thought lingered in your brain.

The love of your life was a Champions League Winner.

Your Harry, Your Winner.

And she wanted to, but she remembers the weeks after she broke up with him. She didn't leave her bed to eat or to work, she only cried or when sometimes she couldn't, she simply remained in silence looking at a fixed point in the room. She was similar to Harry when she saw him the other day.

She remembers crying under the dirty sheets, wishing she were better so that he didn't have to commit that act, clutching her chest with her hand trying to calm the painful stabbing pressure in her heart. Watching videos of old performances of him singing songs he had written for her, or listening to old audios of him was not healthy at all.

She remembers Niall calling her, asking her about some rumors that Harry was not leaving his house and she had not been seen again. She didn't answer, and Niall had to find out her address and show up at her door to help her up.

"This is not who you are, Y/N."

"I don't know who I am anymore, Niall. I don't know who I am without him." She replied, her voice drowned out by the blankets.

"You'll have to find out, petal. I'll help you, get up, let's go."

(...)

Harry is confused.

He bathed, shaved, cleaned his entire house and raised the curtains so the light would enter his life again. The only thing is... the light hasn't sent him any message since that day.

She said she would accept him again in her life, and he fears she only said it to help him.

Harry looks at the clock on his living room wall, indicating 21:30 PM on a saturday, the time that Y/N watches the friends marathon they used to watch together.

Without realizing it, he ends up taking his phone and looking for the contact that he never dared to press. The last message brings tears to his eyes.

hi lovie. I'm coming back from the studio and i can't wait to get home and cuddle with you, i bought food, love you :)

And the answer was what hurt the most.

i'm waiting for you, love you more!! <3

Never, in all their years together and years that he spent touring the world with One Direction, was he ever even close to cheating on Y/N.

She loved him, and Harry ruined everything by a fucking domestic fight over a fucking painting.

He deleted the message he was writing and locked his phone, knowing that if she wanted him again, she would come for him when she's ready.

And he would wait a lifetime for her.

It's just that, he's so lonely, so lonely that it hurts to be silent at his house, and he doesn't have the strength to play an instrument, because he knows that only sad melodies will come out of there. He doesn't even have a pet, or a stuffed animal to cuddle, he's... alone.

When Harry finally decides to sit on his huge couch and turn on the tv, a message arrives on his phone.

hey... are you watching the marathon?

He takes a shaky breath and reads the message several times to verify that Y/N really did send him a message, and that he is not dreaming it. Before answering her, he rushes to change the channel until he reaches the one that is programming the marathon.

And the chapter leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

He remembers seeing this chapter with Y/N for the first time at sixteen, when they were still embarrassing to each other. And he also remembers seeing it a million more times together, in all those they both end up crying and hugging, promising things that they could not fulfill.

"It's so sad..." Y/N sobs. "I can't believe he cheated on her!"

"Me neither, love. I didn't think this would happen." Harry answers, snuggling her against her chest so that she doesn't see the tears leaking from his eyes like waterfalls. "It's horrible, how someone can betray the person they love the most like that."

Y/N moves away from him to look up into his eyes, reaching out to wipe his wet cheeks and resting her hand there, he leans towards her touch.

"I know, right?" She answers. "But I trust you, Har. And even though we haven't even held hands in front of our parents yet, I know you'll never, ever hurt me."

"Never, i promise yeh" He leaves a small, shy kiss on her lips. "And I know you won't hurt me either."

"Never."

They were young, and stupidly in love. No one could blame them.

Yeah, I'm seeing it. It's weird to see it without you.

Harry replied, and kept staring at the television screen to kill time before her response. It was the part where Monica and Phoebe were trying to wax and Joey and Chandler would walk in alarmed, that part never failed to make them laugh.

Except neither of them laughed.

Y/N sighed, biting her thumbnail not knowing what to do. They couldn't see it alone... it was their tradition, something of theirs.

do you want to come to my house? it's a tradition that we watch it together, after all.

Her cat meowed at her side, as if to say that he disagreed with her.

"I know, Ubbe. But don't blame me." She replied, waiting for an answer from Harry, who was reading the message with one hand over his mouth.

Had he read correctly? did Y/N invite him to her house? He couldn't say no, although he probably should have.

yeah, can you give me the address?

It didn't take long for Y/N to send him the address, and Harry sighed when he saw that it was more than ten minutes of travel.

She just wanted to be away from him.

He took his keys and left the house, heading to his old love's new home.

Y/N knew that by the time Harry was here, the chapter would be over, so she cheated a bit and opened HBO max so they could watch the entire chapter together.

She yawned, not even bothering to fix her appearance. It was Harry, he had seen her in every possible way. And he had cheated on her! so she could open the door for him however she wanted.

She laughed sadly, she knew she shouldn't joke about that, but what else could she do? she had already cried, screamed and been angry with him, there was nothing else left.

Coming back to Harry, who was clutching the wheel in his ringless hands, driving through unfamiliar blocks and with the car in absolute silence, he couldn't help but think that the neighborhood was very nice despite the darkness of the night, and that it seemed to be the place where Y/N belonged.

He sighed, parking the car in front of a small but nice house so he could grab his phone from the passenger seat and check the address one more time. It's was here.

Y/N arranged the blanket on her sofa and gathered all the used tissues to throw them away, freaking out and throwing them on the floor when the doorbell rang in the quiet house. She quickly grabbed them and tossed them in the trash, then ran to the door.

She could feel her stomach twist at every breath she took in, and adjusted the cardigan around her torso to ward off the chills before opening the door.

There they were, the two of them, looking less miserable than the last time they met, but still empty.

Harry was wearing his black treat people with kindness jumpsuit, gray joggings, and old shoes, regardless of his appearance.

"Hi." He greeted her, running his sad eyes over her figure. "Nice cardigan."

Y/N looked down to see that he was indeed wearing a Harry cardigan. It was an old one, probably of their early twenties, when he used it to hang around in the comfort of their home, when he didn't go out on the street wearing that. She had worn it many, many times more than he had, so he gave it to her, saying that she "wore it much better than him."

"Thanks, it's old." They both smiled, and an awkward silence enveloped them, until she spoke again. "Come in, we have to see the chapter."

The brunette crossed the door and entered the house, turning on his feet to have a panoramic view of the entire space, it was small, but perfect for her. It had pictures on the walls, plants on some shelves, and in the air there was that characteristic Y/N smell that he liked and missed so much.

"H!" Y/N laughed, writhing from the tickle her boyfriend's long hair provoked on her neck. "Your hair is tickling me."

"Don't act like you don't like it." He answered with a voice muffled by her neck. "God, I love this."

"What, bother me?" She asked, stroking the long curls.

"No, your smell." He murmured, leaving kisses on his smooth skin. "It's the smell of... flowers and a new book."

"What?! I smell like a book?" She couldn't help the laugh that escaped from her chest, and Harry felt his heart beat even louder at the sound.

"But a new one, with its perfect pages and without any wrinkles!" He replied, pulling away a bit so he could look into her eyes. "Whoops, sorry." He said when his locks fell on his girlfriend's face. "It's like the smell of babies, have you seen how everyone says it's addictive? Well, you're my baby."

The girl sighed, feeling her tummy get out of control at the words of her love, he would never stop making her feel like she was the only one for his eyes.

"It's very weird that you know exactly what I smell like, and very cute too." She put a little kiss on his pink lips, which were pouting. "God! How can you be so pretty?"

Harry groaned, feeling the blood rise to his cheeks heating his entire face, and he hid his face again in Y/N's neck so that he could inhale that smell that he liked so much.

"Do you want something to drink?" Reality hit Harry back, and he turned to Y/N in confusion.

"N-no, I'm okay, thank you." He replied, looking down at the ground as a furry tail caught his attention, and a gray cat appeared at his side. "You got a cat."

"I did, yeah." Her soft, muffled voice was heard behind him as he bent down to caress the cat.

"We should adopt a pet." Harry said as he washed the dishes.

"We should!" She answered excited, drying the dishes that he handed her. "A cat would be nice, they're so cute."

"When the tour ends and I am all yours, what do you think?" He brought his face close, kissing her cheek loudly. "I don't want you to feel alone when I'm away."

"Never, lovie. Even if you aren't by my side, I know that you're always there."

He got up again in silence, and followed the girl to the sofa, where he noticed that the chapter was paused on the TV. He smiled, and sat down next to her.

He could feel their knees touching, but he couldn't caress her leg, and she couldn't snuggle into his chest. It was like sitting next to a stranger.

Y/N said nothing and simply put the chapter on play, stroking her cat on her lap and keeping her gaze on the screen. Being so close to Harry without being able to touch him caused something strange in her stomach, it just didn't feel right.

They were silent, smiling hollowly at the funny parts of the chapter, but not letting out the laughter that usually escaped their mouths.

It was so uncomfortable, he could feel the discomfort emanating from the body beside him. God, it's all my fault.

"What?! Look, we’re trying to rebuild a relationship here, right. How am I supposed to do that here, without being totally honest with each other?" Ross says.

She is reassured that Harry had the decency to confess his infidelity, which calms her down a bit.

The scenes continue, until Rachel enters the apartment and Ross runs after her.

"I can’t talk to you. I can’t even look at you right now!" Rachel sobs.

Y/N snuggled into the cardigan, not being able to snuggle into Harry's chest. Sniffing and feeling the tears wet her rosy cheeks. It was so sad, but now they were reflected, and it hurt more than ever.

And clearly she wasn't the only one crying, because the brunette next to her was swallowing the moans and gasps that came with the painful cry that he let out.

"Alright. Let’s say I had slept with Mark. Would you have been able to forgive me?" Rachel crosses her arms.

Harry begins to think that this is a stupid idea, because imagining Y/N having sex with someone who is not him is drilling his head, and it brings more tears to his eyes.

"Yes I would."

"You’d be okay if you knew that Mark had kissed me, and been naked with me, and made love to me?"

"Y-Yes..."

"You knew that our hot, sweaty, writhing bodies were....-"

"Okay, okay, yeah, I would have been devastated but, I would still want to be with you. Because it’s, I mean it’s you."

Y/N sobs louder, covering her face with her hands, while trying to control her trembling body. And Harry turns off the television, not bothering to finish the stupid chapter.

He knows it's his fault, he knows it's his fault that she is like this, that he has ruined everything they had, that he has ruined her.

"I'm so sorry." He says with a broken voice, while he shakes his head.

"I know."

"I'm so sorry you feel like that, shit, I'm sorry about everything."

"I know."

And Harry can't take it anymore, he needs to have this conversation.

"Talk to me, love. Please."

Y/N takes her hands off her face, staring at Harry, and the sight in front of him makes him cry even more.

Tears fell from her eyes without stopping, her nose was red, snot was coming out of it, her lips were also red and trembling, letting out ragged breaths.

"Regardless... I'm happy that you decided to tell me the truth." She says, controlling herself so she can speak. "But Harry... this totally changes the way I see you."

"I know, I know and I promise you that I will do whatever it takes to make you see me as before." He moves from hers to her side to kneel in front of her, resting his forearms on her knees. "God, I could wait decades for you to forgive me."

"I said I forgave you-"

"No. To forgive me here." He pointed to her heart. "I know you will never forget this, but I want it to be buried and that we never talk about it again when we're old, and let it just be a horrible experience."

"H-Harry." She sobs. "Y- You... you kissed another woman, caressed another woman and gave her something that was only ours." Y/N shakes her head, keeping it down so as not to meet glances.

Harry in front of her lets out a painful gasp, his stupidity had broken the most beautiful thing he had in his life. And although she couldn't forgive him, he would never forgive himself either.

"I know, angel. That's why I want to spend the rest of my life letting you know that I only want you, I only want to kiss you, I only want to make love to you, I only want to be yours." He cries, feeling his throat rip, warping his voice. "Please, we are Y/N and Harry! We can't walk away."

And she believes him, believes him because the singer known for being always cheerful is now completely devastated just like her, crying and praying that they cannot be separated.

The only things that fill the living room are sobs, sniffs and gasps. And neither of them imagined that at some point in their relationship they had to experience something like this.

"We can't. Because living without you is like living without a part of me, and I can't, I can't, we can't." He whispers.

Since the beginning of the relationship, Y/N has always been the strong one, hugging and comforting Harry when he couldn't handle the pressure. But now, in the darkness of her house, no one knows who is worse.

"Why did you have to show up again?" She whispers so low that she doesn't know if she really said it, but she knows she did when he lets out a groan. "Why did I have to go help you? Why couldn't I leave you rotting like I was when you cheated on me?!"

And Harry doesn't want to imagine how she went through it after all, he doesn't want to imagine her like this because of him, but he knows it's the truth.

"Why... why did I come back to you?" She sighs, completely empty. And Harry takes the audacity to slide his hands around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"Because you love me, and I love you." He says. "You said we'd take it slow, baby, please."

They both look into each other's eyes, and Y/N for the first time doesn't see him with that woman that her thoughts have created, she doesn't see the horrible act he committed, she only sees him.

She only sees his beautiful green eyes bloodshot and reflecting all the pain they both feel. And there she realizes that he really regrets it, and that he would do anything for her.

This is her Harry.

The Harry who sent her pictures of things that reminded him of her, wrote songs to her, wrapped a blanket in her when she was cold, kissed her in the bathtub, and whispered promises in her ear. The Harry that she gave everything to, and he gave everything to her.

And then she clears her throat to speak, and Harry looks at her expectantly.

"Okay."

"Okay..?" He says, confused.

"We'll take it slow, this time seriously." She says, and the sigh Harry lets out makes her feel better about her decision.

She feels better too, without the pressure on her chest, she knows she made a great decision.

They both hug each other tightly, sobbing on their shoulders, they know it takes more to separate them.

"Okay, get ready because we're going to dinner." He says.

"What, at two in the morning?" She laughs with him, drying her tears.

"No, silly. I'll text you with the date."

They both break away from the hug, staring at each other. This feels weird, they think.

"It's late, sleep on the couch. I'll bring you blankets and a pillow." Y/N gets up and leaves, leaving him alone.

This gives him time to run a hand through his hair, sighing and relaxed that she has agreed with him, because he wouldn't know what he would do otherwise. He is so lucky, and he will not waste this opportunity.

"Here you go, mhm." The owner of his thoughts returns with the items she named and silently leaves them beside him. "Alright... I- I'm going to sleep."

Harry looks at her from below, wiping dry tears from his cheeks with one hand.

"Thank you, Y/N. For everything."

"Goodnight, H."

@hazgoldenstyles @obhsworld (i don't know why i can't tag you :c) @wholesomestyles @ericadrumgoole1 @artemlss @alwaysclassyeagle @isuspectitwasthenargles (the same, sorry :c) @lovely-him @iaalien @gonnagoandfangirl