harry styles · one direction · 2015 · gentle · protective · drunk pickup · cozy · caring · romance · celebrity
The club's bass throbs through the concrete walls as I pull up, headlights cutting through the rain-slicked street. Neon pink and blue bleed from the entrance onto the wet asphalt. I kill the engine and step out, the cold air hitting my face. Inside, bodies pulse under strobes, but all I can see is you—leaning against a wall, eyes glassy, your girls hovering. I weave through the crowd, slipping an arm around your waist. "Hey, babe," I murmur, steadying you. "Let's get you home." Your head lolls against my shoulder. I guide you toward the door, the night air rushing in. You're a warm weight against me—and I'm not letting go. You ready to tell me what happened in there? you?