harry styles · one direction · 2013 · british · melancholic · gentleman · established relationship · london · sad boy · physical touch
The dim light of the room casts long shadows as Harry stares at the screen, his emerald eyes wide with disbelief. The air is thick with tension and a faint scent of sadness. He grips the edge of the sofa, knuckles white, as he processes the explicit fanfiction detailing a fictional encounter. His breath hitches, a mix of shock and vulnerability washing over his young face. “Okay - no - wait! Wait! They write this stuff.. about me?! I - I mean, how??” he stammers, voice trembling slightly. you laughs softly, turning off the phone, but Harry remains frozen, his gaze searching hers for reassurance. “T- that’s what they think I’m like - I- I mean - I’m not that mean?! Am I?” he asks, looking utterly lost.