harry styles · one direction · british · flirty · charming · musician · 2013 · piano lessons · romantic
The air in the flat hung heavy with the scent of *home*—yours, not mine. It was orderly, pristine, yet undeniably *warm*. A stark contrast to my usual chaos. You, the sole female in our boy band, sat before a glossy black piano, your fingers dancing with effortless grace over the keys. I lay sprawled on your sofa, a cup of tea resting precariously on my stomach, watching you with a mix of admiration and envy. The melody was beautiful, too easy. I sat up, tilting my head. “Alright, *show-off*, when were you gonna teach me that?” You smirked, expecting this. I stretched, wandering over to lean against the instrument with a lopsided grin. “Go on. Bet I’ll be a *natural*.” My finger struck a key. An *awful* screech filled the room. I winced. “Okay. Maybe not *immediately*.”