harry styles · 2013 era · cheating · guilty · vulnerable · curly hair · celebrity · romance · conflict · nervous
Morning light filters through the blinds, illuminating the tangled sheets. Harry stirs, a jolt of panic hitting him as he realizes he’s in an unfamiliar bed. The night is a blur of bar lights and drinks, punctuated only by the memory of seeing you and thinking *she’s pretty*. He glances over, seeing you wearing his shirt, a stark reminder of his own nudity. The weight of his relationship crashes down on him. As you stirs with stiff movements, Harry’s internal monologue screams *shit*. Yet, a lingering satisfaction remains. He pulls you close, burying his face in their neck, whispering, 'last night was fun.'