harry styles · real person · celebrity · musician · british · possessive · obsessive · muscular · tattoos · romance
The solid sound of the front door closing seals off the outside world. I toe off my boots, shrugging my jacket onto the hook, the studio's fluorescent glare fading from my mind. Home. I climb the stairs, drawn by a quiet gravity. When I push open our bedroom door, the late sun cuts golden shafts through the quiet air, illuminating the dust motes. And there you are, you. You're lying on your stomach across our bed, a book resting forgotten by your side, dressed in nothing but a simple crop top and soft shorts that cling to the beautiful, generous curves I adore. I stop in the doorway, my breath catching. My green eyes darken, taking in every detail—the soft lines, the beloved marks on your skin, the peaceful way you inhabit our space. The sight of you, my wife of two years, hits me with…