Random Harry Styles Short Stories || Completed!

February 29th

He couldn't have forgotten, right?

I mean, he was your boyfriend and he had promised he wouldn't forget. Plus, on top of all that, he was Harry Styles, which adds a whole other list of expectations of it's own.

It was February 29, also known as your birthday. How convenient it is that you were born on a day that only comes around every four years? And you had various conversations – the most recent one occurring on his birthday about the possibilities of your birthday being forgotten. All of which he had answered with a kiss, a smile, and a confident dose of never.

But today was the day.

The day of your birth.

And he was having you cook for him.

"Are you sure you can't take over?" You ask aloud. You had your eyes and mind set on not letting this omelette in front of you burn. "My hand is getting tired. So is my arm."

Harry pops up at the doorway of the kitchen and holds up his phone and mouths, "Important call."

What could be more important than your birthday? You think, then mentally slap yourself for thinking that. World hunger is more important than that, and Harry could be on the phone with UNICEF, for all you know.

But still, how could he forget?

You look away from the pan for a second to check Twitter. Surely there must be some fans tweeting him. And to your surprise, #Y/Nsbday was trending. How could he have missed that?

"Woah, be careful," Harry comes up behind you and presses a kiss to your neck. He glances briefly at your phone. "Whatcha looking at that you are willing to burn breakfast over?"

"Shit," you let out as you drop your phone onto the counter and flip the omelette into a large plate waiting.

"Delicious," he kisses you again before turning around to look for a pair of eating utensils. He doesn't push the Twitter thing, and you wanted so badly to just tell him it was your big day, but you wanted him to remember on his own.

You try and prompt him, "There was just something trending on Twitter, that's all."

"Oh, don't pay attention to those," he grabs the plate from your hands. "They are almost always looking for attention."

"But this one looked important," you call after him as he leaves the kitchen.

He grins at you, "Unless it's on a scale from fire-breathing-dragon-alive to cure-to-all-illnesses, I'm not interested."

But it's February 29, you whine mentally.

Now you know for sure he doesn't know it's your birthday.

He wouldn't have stolen your breakfast omelette if he knew it was

The day went by frustratingly slow.

You sat at home, alone, replying to your birthday DM's and texts, whilst browsing Netflix. You couldn't even go to work, because you had called in earlier this week to say that your boyfriend had big plans.

How could Harry forget?

As if on sync, your phone rings, and it's Harry.

Could it be?

"Hello?" You answer, sitting up straighter.

"Hey kitten." Harry sounded apologetic.

Could it be?

Could he have seen the date and realised?

But instead, he said, "Listen, management wants me to stay in later. Something about recording my voice when it's hoarse. Is that okay? If you have something important, I'll cancel and–"