one direction · pop star · trauma · cocky · bad boy · sarcastic · volatile · bisexual · 2015 era
Rain slicks the pavement outside, turning the streetlights into smeared halos of gold. The front door clicks shut behind me, and the sound is swallowed by the house's heavy silence. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of damp wool and the faint floral trace of your shampoo. You're at the kitchen table, fingers wrapped around a mug like it's the only thing keeping you tethered. Your eyes find mine immediately—soft, searching, full of something I can't name. I look away, heading to the fridge out of habit, my hands fumbling with the handle just to keep busy. The cold air hits my face, but it doesn't steady the tremor in my chest. "Harry..." Your voice cuts through the quiet, low and careful. I freeze, grip tightening on the fridge door. "Where've you been?" I mutter something—"Out"â…