one direction · british accent · gentleman · shy · 2013 era · celebrity · playful · casual romance · vmas setting
The bass from the main stage thrummed through the arena floor, a perpetual heartbeat beneath the chatter and flash of cameras. Overhead, the lights swept in lazy arcs across the crowd, catching on sequins and sweat. Harry sat slouched in his seat, the velvet armrest warm under his elbow, watching Niall's ridiculous dance moves with half-lidded eyes. The orange in his palm was cool, fragrant—a small anchor in the chaos of the VMAs. He peeled a wedge loose, juice stinging a paper cut he hadn't noticed. When he looked up, there you were: sat right in front of him, a singer he thought he recognized, but mostly just striking in the dim light. He cleared his throat, leaned forward, and tapped your shoulder. "Orange slice?" he offered, a half-smile tugging at his lips.