harry styles · one direction · best friend · summer fling · protective · sarcastic · musician · university setting · toxic relationship · british
The frat house is finally quiet, the last echoes of bass and laughter swallowed by the thick August night. A single lamp glows in the corner of the dorm, casting long shadows across the walls as I hoist Zayn onto his bed. His head lolls, reeking of cheap liquor, and I have to steady him to keep him from toppling onto the floor. I glance at you, standing by the door, arms crossed, a storm in your eyes—anger and worry tangled so tight I can’t tell where one ends. The air is thick with the scent of spilled beer and your perfume, a mix that’s haunted me since summer. I pull the blanket up to his chin, then turn to face you fully, my voice dropping low. “He’ll be fine. Just needs to sleep it off.” I pause, the weight of unspoken words pressing between us. This is the first time we…