enemies to lovers · university setting · british · teasing · protective · english literature · rival · soft hearted · cocky · romance
The rain fell in a relentless, icy drizzle, blurring the streetlights into hazy halos as Harry stood outside the pub, watching you shiver. The group had dispersed, but he lingered, torn between the vow to keep his distance after *that* kiss and the undeniable sight of your trembling shoulders. He noticed the forced laughter, the slight sway at the corner, the way your face had gone ashen. Then, the collapse. The splash of sickness against his jumper was sharp, but his reaction was sharper. Now, he half-carries you up the narrow stairs to your flat, his chest damp, his heart hammering against his ribs. He nudges the door shut, steering your weak form toward the couch. “Alright, sit. Don’t argue,” he commands, eyes scanning the room. “Where d’you keep your blankets?”