#simranfangirl

He’d dragged you out clubbing with his housemates, promising he’d pay you back by getting you takeaway. You’d put up a hard front, but you’d have crumbled eventually regardless of what he’d offered you - you’ve always had a weak spot for Harrison. The drinks had started flowing and you’d been having a great time, but then Harrison had been approached by a girl - a very, very pretty girl - and he’d walked off. 

Alone and tipsy, you’d decided the best way to soothe your aching heart was by finding your way into the arms of a stranger. It hadn’t been hard to find someone, and you’d lost yourself in the music and the drinks and the dancing. You’d kissed them, kissed them hard, and recklessly, and pictured Harrison’s face there instead, only to open your eyes and look across the club to see him there, Harrison, staring at you with heartbreak in his eyes. 

Heart in your throat, you’d run. Run all the way outside, to where you are now, pacing, trying to piece together the shards of your aching heart. 

“Y/N.” 

You startle, clutching at your chest as you turn around to see Harrison striding towards you, making quick work of the distance with those long legs of his. He looks good tonight, in a black and white striped shirt and a pair of black jeans. There’s a rosy flush to his face and his eyes are wide with concern.

“Hi,” you say, feeling a little bashful. Your friend stops only when he’s in front of you, his heavy hands falling to your shoulders.

“Why did you run off? Are you okay?” Harrison asks, voice a low rasp. His eyes bore into your soul, and he shifts a hand to your face. “Why are you crying, love?” His fingers brush beneath your eyes, wiping away the juicy tears. 

His kindness and his compassion for you only makes your state worse, and you start sobbing again.

“Sorry,” you whine, embarrassed as you hide your head in his chest. Harrison wraps you in his arms, shushing you gently as he runs his hands all over your back.

“It’s okay,” he says, voice soft. He holds you close until you stop shaking, whispering quiet affirmations. “You can talk to me, Y/N. About anything.”

Maybe it’s the chill in the wind or the fact that you’ve got your face buried out of sight, but you find yourself feeling emboldened.

“Harrison, I… I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

There’s a very long pause, and you spend it with your face screwed up in a wince as you immediately begin to berate yourself for parting with those very personal feelings. Your mind spins off, thinking about how much you value your friendship, how much you care and love Harrison, and how much you’d hate it if this admission changes all of that. You’re about to snap and take it back when you feel him gently coax you from his chest.

“Y/N,” Harrison murmurs. His fingers pick up your chin, and he gently forces you to look at him. His eyes are so blue beneath the night’s sky. “Why would you do that, when you could just be kissing me instead?”

You look at him, eyes widening as his words sink in. “You… But you don’t…”

“I do.” An easy smile breaks across Harrison’s face, and you release a deep breath. “Love, I- I’ve fancied you for years. Just never thought that you’d want me like that.”

“Of course I want you like that,” you exclaim. “I love you.”

Harrison cups your cheeks in his hands, his ring feeling cool against your skin. “I love you too.”

There’s chilly condensation flurrying in the air as you lean forward and kiss him, deeply. The feeling of finally knocking lips with your best friend after so many years of pining and yearning is unlike no other, and you twist your hands into his hair as you hold him as close to you as possible. You can feel him smiling against you, his mouth warm as he kisses you, over and over again, stealing the air from your lungs until you’re panting.

“You’re a good kisser, Harrison,” you murmur, hardly able to get the words out through the giant smile on your lips.

“we got ‘im down here. he got hit a couple times on the leg. doc doesn’t want ‘im moving around.” tuwaine explained and with that your heart felt like it stopped beating. him getting hurt wasn’t a new thing but it had never been easy to get the news or to see him hurt.

you pushed the bedroom door open to reveal him sitting on the middle of the bed with his hands occupied by his phone. the sound of the door closing behind you pulled his attention away from the device and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of you. “angel, what are you doing here?” he inquired.

“i came as soon as i heard!” you shrugged your coat off letting it drop on the carpet.

“everything’s fine, love. you shouldn’t— argh, fuck!” he gritted out in pain when he started to move out of bed. you hurried to be beside him, stopping him from moving any further.

“get back in bed, you’re not healed yet!” your hands held his bare shoulders, pushing him back against the headboard. “please,” you whispered when he fought your attempt to keep him steady. his bloodshot eyes locked with yours and his furrowed brows relaxed when he focused on how your eyes lined with tears.

“don’t. i won’t move, just... don’t cry.” he gripped your hands, removing them from him and kissing your knuckles a couple times. you carefully sat down next to him and threw your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly while holding back stinging tears.