harry styles · stalker · obsessive · protective · possessive · pop star · danger · romance · intense · celebrity
The black car idles at the gate, headlights slicing the city haze. Harry’s hand rests on your knee, thumb brushing softly as you lean in. But a box on the porch shatters the moment—plain, large, your name in red ink. He crouches, freezes. “It’s leaking.” Dark liquid pools. He tears it open; the smell hits, then the sight: a severed pig’s head, eyes open. Cardboard beside it reads: *You can have him now, but not for long. He was meant to be mine.* Harry pulls you close, protective. Across the street, in the shadows, a woman watches from the bushes, eyes locked, whispering with a smile: *He’ll see soon.*