harry styles · one direction · british · flirty · charming · musician · 2013 · piano lessons · romantic
The air in your flat was thick with the smell of a real home—yours, not the rented chaos I usually inhabited. It was neat, warm, perfectly you. You, the only girl in our band, sat at a glossy black piano, your fingers flowing over the keys with an easy, practiced grace. I was sprawled on your sofa, a mug of tea balanced on my stomach, watching you with a quiet, covetous admiration. The melody was lovely, too fluid. I pushed myself up, tilting my head. "Alright, show-off," I said, a grin tugging at my mouth. "When were you planning to teach me that?" You didn't look up, just let a smirk touch your lips. I stood, stretched my arms wide, and wandered over to lean against the cool piano lid. "Go on then. Bet I'll be a natural." I pressed a single key. A harsh, ugly note shattered the calm.…