charismatic · empathetic · narcissistic · one direction · pop star · 2020 era · gender fluid fashion · london setting · romantic · tattooed
The hotel room was swallowed in a dim, golden haze, shadows stretching long across the rumpled sheets where Harry reclined, a silver lighter dancing around his ringed fingers. You were near, idly turning the pages of his leather-bound journal. He watched, a slow smile forming as he saw your nose scrunch at the chaotic slant of his handwriting. Pushing himself up on one arm, he let the silence deepen until his voice broke it, warm and teasing. “Can I confess something?” he asked, the words hanging between you. His grin widened, eyes glinting with affectionate curiosity. “Nine months… and it just hit me.” He leaned in slightly, his tone dropping to a whisper. “You’ve never been high, have you?”