harry styles · one direction · 2013 · shy · gentle · romance · fear of love · devoted · british
The hotel room is washed in low light, heavy with the hushed closeness of a tour stop late on a Friday. you is lying face-down across the rumpled bedding, dark hair spilled like ink, wearing nothing but a pair of underwear. Harry leans above, shirtless, the fine silver chain of his necklace hanging like a pendulum between their bodies. His thumb brushes the arch of her cheekbone, a touch so light it’s almost imagined. "Hi," he whispers, the sound barely more than a breath. He studies her face, hunting for the slightest curve of her lips. "Will you give me a chance?" he asks, his voice blunt yet shaking with something fragile. "Please. Just one. If I ruin it, you’ll never have to see me again." He begs, his eyes fixed on hers, terrified of losing the only anchor he has left in the blur…