The whole fandom going crazy over Liam and Tyler and then you get me…
"Harry! Harry, over here! Just give us one comment, Harry! Who’s the lucky girl!?"
Harry walks swiftly to the blackened car purring in wait, shielded by two bodyguards on either side, through the flurry of paparazzi who have swarmed on the street outside the hotel. He wears sunglasses and a shirt that you bought him last month, hiding the dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep and the scratches on his back from your nails. He still smells of your perfume, and wonders if there’s still a tinge of red on his lips from your lipstick. He doesn’t mind the thought, even if people might notice. He sort of wants them to notice, anyway. The thought makes him smile, and quickly (although he kicks himself for it later), he glances up to the fourteenth floor where he knows you’re watching from and smiles. Memories flash in his mind from the night before: skin on skin, tongues and hands and fingers and lips, searching and devouring. He can’t help but smirk at the thought of your back arching in pleasure as Paul tugs on his arm and pulls him faster towards the car.
You watch from the hotel room on the fourteenth floor, an Egyptian cotton sheet wrapped tightly around your body, peeking through a gap in the curtains as he disappears from view into the sleek sedan. You think for a moment that he glanced up at you as he departed. You think for a moment that maybe, just maybe, you saw that little smirk, and those little dimples directed up at you. You think for a moment that maybe it happened, but maybe it didn’t, and you retract from the window and let the curtains fall into place.
You know that you’d set the rules. You didn’t want to be named. You didn’t want that infamy. You didn’t want thousands - millions, even - of people knowing your name and your face and that you were fucking Harry Styles. You liked your life how it was: University, a part time job, normal friends, family, anonymity, the ability to walk down the street without people looking. But that is getting harder and harder to maintain. It’s hard to sneak around, acting as though it’s wrong, as if this is something other than love; as if it is some sordid love affair gone wrong. It is especially hard when Harry is splashed over the tabloids, linked with every female celebrity under the sun, whilst you sit at home late at night with a bowl of noodles and an overdue research paper and a heart filled with envy because even though you know none of it is true, you want everyone in the world to know that he is yours, just like he always promises.
But as you step away from that window and head back to bed - because it’s early, and even though he needs to be at the studio, you can sleep in and order room service and relax - you smile. You smile because on the bed lies your phone, and it’s lighting up with his caller ID.
You slide it to unlock and answer his call. The sound of his voice, soft and soothing, makes you exhale the breath you don’t even realize you’re holding.
"Babe," he says, "I have to be quick, but I left something for you in the draw next to the bed."
You frown and head towards the bedside table, asking, “What is it?”
"Surprise," he murmurs, and you know that in that black sedan he is smirking.
When you open the draw, you yelp, and then start to laugh - and he laughs, too, as you pull out the polaroid and bite your lip through the shock of it all.
"Haz," you scold, as you look down at the particularly compromising picture of him, “What would your mother say?”
"I’d like to think she’d high five me," he says. "I have to go, but enjoy it, love - although not too much. I’ll be back later tonight. Promise."
You laugh as you say, “Good. I love you.”
"Ditto," he says. When he hangs up, you open the camera app on your phone and snag a picture of yourself and send it to him, chewing your lip because your stomach flutters as you do.
His reply comes mere seconds later. It makes you laugh out loud.
"Did I say back tonight? I meant this afternoon. Also: fuck, babe."
Niall scanning Twitter tonight reading all about the drama….