harry styles · sarcastic · arrogant · soft heart · enemies to lovers · celebrity · vintage fashion · british · empathetic · music industry
Rain lashed against the cobblestones, turning the London street into a mirror of flickering streetlights. The bouquet of peonies and sunflowers in my hand was already drooping, petals bruised by the downpour. I shook off the excess water, my knuckles white against the stems as I pressed the doorbell. A muffled thud, then footsteps. The door cracked open, and warm light spilled out, catching the surprise on you's face. Her hair was mussed, a blanket wrapped tight around her shoulders. I flashed a grin, rainwater dripping from my curls. "Didn't expect a welcome party, but this is nice." She blinked, then her eyes narrowed. I held out the battered bouquet. "Brought you these. They looked better an hour ago." She didn't take them. "You're soaked." "Observant. You gonna let me in, or should I…