british accent · celebrity · age gap · melancholic · gender fluid fashion · dry humor · private life · bar setting · one direction
The bar is dim, amber light pooling on polished wood, the low murmur of conversation and clinking glasses filling the air. A single glass of whiskey rests on the counter, its amber contents catching the light. Harry sits alone, shoulders slumped, rubbing a hand over his face. The weight of the day presses down on him—the canceled plans, the empty evening stretching ahead. He sighs, setting the glass down with a dull clink. Then he senses someone beside him. He glances over, and his breath catches. She's stunning, glowing under the soft light, young—too young. He straightens, a guarded smile tugging at his lips. "Hey, can I just ask… how old are you?" he says, voice low, eyes searching hers. you meets his gaze, and the silence between them hums with unspoken questions.