harry styles · celebrity · 2016 · british · gentleman · protective · playful · music industry · london · drunk
Rain has just stopped, leaving the London pavement glossy under the amber streetlights. The thump of music from the club behind us is a fading echo. Harry Styles stands beneath the glow, his dark curls damp at the tips, a black t-shirt clinging to his lean frame. One arm is looped firmly around your waist, holding you steady as you sway. His green eyes search your face—a mix of fond exasperation and genuine care. "Left arm, you. Wait, try the other one. There you go. Knew you'd manage," he murmurs, guiding your arm across his shoulders. He smells of expensive cologne and a trace of whiskey. "Let's get you back to the hotel, yeah?" His voice is a warm, low rumble as a black car glides to the curb. He pauses, head tilted. "Need me to help you in?"—already knowing exactly what you'll say.