Random Harry Styles Short Stories || Completed!

Nobody's Leaving Anybody

"Can you keep your voice down?"

"Why would you suggest something so fucking stupid like that?" Harry exclaims, completely disregarding your request so that you believe you had not said anything at all.

His fingers were running through his hair so many times that you fear he may rip it all out.

Tears are rapidly streaming down your face as you try to approach him. "Harry," you cry, "please calm down."

But your husband is backing away from you, his face cut open with shock and exaggerated grief. "You can't fucking leave me," he says, his voice practically echoing down the block now. You wince at his tone, and if he had noticed it, he sure as hell didn't stop. "Take it back. Say you didn't mean it. That you were just joking."

You take a deep, shaky breath in. "Harry, all I said was that—"

"I know what you said!" Harry yells.

"—I should take Charlotte back to London with me next week so that—"

"Stop it!"

"—we can celebrate the New Year with family!"

"I said stop it!" Harry screams. He has his hands around your wrists and his eyes were now darting wildly across your face, nostrils flaring. "You're not going anywhere. You're not taking her anywhere. You both are staying right damn here, where you can't leave me."

You cry, "Harry! I'm not leaving you, I'm not—"

"Bullshit!" His hold on you was so strong that you couldn't even calm him down anymore. "I know how this works! You're going to go away for 'New Years' and then the next thing I know, divorce papers are fucking delivered to me. I know—!"

"Nobody's leaving anybody! Let me go, Haz," you spit. "Let me go so we can talk about this calmly."

"No."

"Harry—!"

"NO!"

"Daddy? Mommy?"

The two of you freeze. Harry surrenders his hold on you almost immediately. You take two steps back, away from him. Both of your eyes latch onto the sight of your three-year-old daughter in the doorway, her silhouette barely illuminated by the living room candlelight.

You quickly roll up a sleeve to dry your cheeks as Harry bends down to get on eye-level with your daughter. "Hey, sweetie." His voice is dipped in honey, and it makes you shudder. "I'm sorry, did we wake you?"

Charlotte nods her head and lifts a finger to point at you. "Daddy, why is Mommy shaking?" Is she cold?"

He doesn't even steal a glance back at you before he's responding, "Don't worry about it, sweetie. She's fine. Mommy's just great. We are just having a little...disagreement that's all."

Your daughter doesn't budge. Not until you stare at her through red-rimmed eyes and murmur, "Go back to bed, sweetheart. I'm sorry we woke you. There's nothing to worry about, okay?"

Charlotte nods and runs off into her room. Moments later, you hear the sound of her bedroom door closing.

Harry's still bent over by the open doorway, and his voice is barely a whisper as he says, "It's going to be so easy for you. She listens to you. Think she forgot about me?"

At first, you aren't sure if he's expecting a response from you. After all, he has all but let you speak your mind. But he doesn't budge when you walk over to him and kneel down next to him. Not even when you run your hands down his spine and wrap your arms around his waist. "She loves you. She asks about you every single day. It's just...it's just hard when you're not around a lot, that's all."

"I know," Harry blurts out, turning around in your embrace so that his forehead is leaning against yours. "I know that I haven't been...the easiest partner to put up with. But I'm trying, I really am. You just can't give up on me now. I swear, I'll be here more. I swear."

"Harry," you say his name in a way that he has never heard you speak before. It frightens him. "You say that all the time." And before he can interrupt you, you continue, "But I understand. You have to make the hardest sacrifices every day, and I don't expect you, nor want you, to give up your career and doing what you absolutely love for me."

"But I will."

"I don't want you to," you assert. "You have to do what you love. You have to."

Harry shakes his head and presses your knuckles to his lips. "Okay. I'll...I'll be there for the big moments. Like New Years. I'll cancel my appearance on Jimmy Kimmel, yeah? No—that wasn't a question. That's happening. I'll call him right now."

"Haz—"

"No, I have to do this."

You watch him silently as he squeezes his phone out of his pocket to dial the number of the famous talk show host. His eyebrows are furrowed as the line continues to ring, and you whisper-hiss, "Stop it, Harry! It's okay! It's all okay!"

But the line goes through, and Harry's beautiful emerald eyes light up when the voice of his familiar friend cuts through the night. "Hey, Jimmy! Yeah, sorry for calling this late. I, uh...yeah, yeah, don't worry it isn't about that. It's about my, um, appearance on New Years? Yeah...yeah, I'm going to have to cancel, I'm so sorry. Yeah, no, it's not that. Family business I have to attend. Yeah...oh...oh, that's not necessary..."

You don't know why you're holding your breath.

"Oh, really? That's great. Thank you so much, Jimmy. My apologies, again, but thank you very much. Have a good night."

Harry ends the call and discards his phone onto the couch cushions. You finally sigh, "So?"

"So," he repeats, tackling you into a kiss. "So, I can be with my princess and our princess."