Punk One Direction One Shots

Harry for Angel Pt. 3

The apartment was cozy for the young couple. It wasn’t too big, but not to small either. There was enough room for all their books and things back in uni, and now the papers and briefcases needed for work. Posters and paintings plastered the walls covering imperfections in the paint-the two got a bit too frisky with the brushes.  A turn table was nestled in the corner with endless vinyls stacked on the top.  A cat padded across the floor completing the house. Everything seemed perfect, except for one thing: them.

From the outside everything seemed perfect, well not perfect. There was a difference, a physical appearance difference that couldn’t be shred despite graduations and moves. Angel’s parents could only see the black spray paint that graffitied his body. There was a loyalty and trust issue between the two. Especially now that there was a ring, a very nice Tiffany’s ring mind you, on Angel’s hand.

Harry woke up, rubbing at his, adjusting to the darkness seeing his Angel standing in the middle of the moonlight. The small balcony gave the two London’s finest view at night: neon and drugs. He heaved his long limbed body out of bed crossing over to her.

His toned arms wrapped around her waist, settling on her hips nicely. “Penny for your thoughts?” he husked out his voice thick with sleep.

“A dollar says you know.” Angel bantered back to him.

“Why do you keep listening to them? It’s only going to continue to happen. It got better.”

“I know.”

“Do you? We’ve tried so hard. I wish we could go back to school, I wish I could prevent it from happening. All it’s done is turn you parents against me.”

“Well you can’t.”

“Exactly.” Harry sighed. “And if I can’t do anything, and you can’t do anything, then there’s nothing wrong.”

“What self-help novel did that come out of?” Angel asked turning so her back leaned against the iron railing, facing her lover.

His eyes glistened in the dark, the light reflecting of the specks of metal. “Zayn taught it to me actually.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” Angel huffed. “This is so hard Harry.”

“Do you regret saying yes?” he asked leaning his jaw against her neck, roughing its way up. This was the drawing line. This couldn’t keep happening, it was tearing them apart.

“No! Of course not, but they’re my family Harry. If we go through with this, I have no family.”

“You have me and that pitiful excuse of a cat. We’re your family now. Who never left your side in the hospital?”

“My parents didn’t want to be with-“

“No, if they cared enough they would’ve stay despite me being there, or kicked me out. But did they? No, Angel I’m sorry, okay? Just come back to me. We have each other, and that’s it.”

Angel grabbed Harry’s outstretched hand and allowed herself to be pulled back to the bed. Harry tucked the sheets around her cooing mindless words to her, whatever seemed right. Once Harry slipped in behind her, she curled her body back around his heat.

“So it’s us and the cat?” she asked yawning.

“If you want it.”

“I do.” And she did, it was just a lot, a lot to take in and to let go. She knew she could handle it and adjust; it would just take a while.

After several moments of silence, Harry sleepily mumbled, “Since we’re family, I give you full permission to call me Daddy.”

“Maybe tomorrow Styles.”

Both went to sleep with a good promise of a pleasurable future.