One Shots ~ Harry Styles

// Concert //

A/N - Tried something even better!!!

You had been to one of his concerts before.

In fact, back when he was still part of One Direction, you had seen them perform together twice. Throughout the rest of your childhood and the years that carried you into your young adult life, you had been to an abundance of larger concerts.

So you didn't see the reason behind Harry urging you to stay tucked up backstage.

"I'll be good, I promise," you vow, trying to lace up your sneakers without Harry pushing your fingers away. "Don't you trust me?"

Your boyfriend sighs, snatching your left shoe up and away from your grasp. "It's not that I don't trust you," he says at the same time you try lunging for your missing footwear. "It's just that you'd be much more comfortable back here."

"With one shoe?"

Harry raises his eyebrows pointedly, surrendering your shoe onto the ground in front of you, "With none. Why bother squeezing your feet into them when you can just walk around barefoot the entire night. Hey, you can even walk around in here totally bare if you'd like. That's perfectly fine, and even encouraged, by me."

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "Haz," you murmur, slipping on your other shoe and rebalancing yourself. "It's the first night of your second leg on tour. I want to support you."

Harry bends down to where you are situated on the floor and cups your cheeks with both hands. "You are already supporting me, angel, just by being here. You don't need to be out there."

"I want to," you urge, bringing your hands up to interlace your fingers with his. "I want to be out there with you. To sing along with everybody else who loves you. For you to see me in the crowd dancing along to the songs you wrote for me."

You know you have Harry hooked. You can see it in the subtle shift of his eyes. Only a couple of seconds have passed before he's giving in and saying, "Okay, fine. But you're going into the VIP box."

"Harry–"

"It's the VIP box or nothing."

Somebody comes in to inform him that he needs to head into hair and make-up. Before he darts out the door, he kisses you one last time on the forehead and whispers, "I'll see you out there."

***

It had been almost two hours since you last saw him, during which you had busied yourself with trying to get acquainted with the small town that surrounded the venue.

Harry wasn't allowed to roam around outside, but you knew it would mean a lot to him if you did. So, you made sure to hit every single store that reminded you of him. Even a little old vinyl store that sold a copy of his favourite Eagles album.

By the time you had covered the entire area bordering the circumference of the stadium, the sun had already begun to set. "Shit," you mumble out loud to yourself as your eyes settle on the mile-long line that had formed at the entrance.

You had a baseball cap and one of Harry's too-big hoodies on you, so none of the fans recognized you as you dotted your way to the front of the queue. "Hi," you greet the guard stationed in front of a line of velvet ropes. You lower your voice to continue, "I'm Harry Styles' girlfriend. Can I get through?"

The man looks you up and down before clearing his throat. "Can I see some I.D.?"

Nodding politely, you bring a hand up to find the lanyard that loops around your neck...only to realize that there was nothing there. "I must've...I must've left it in the dressing room," you stammer, confused, "I can go run and grab it real quick and come out to show you."