Harry Styles imagines + preferences

Be my mistake

'What even are we?' You scream at him.

Tears are stinging your eyes, lips quivering, body shaking. Harry looks at you with sadness. He runs his hand through his hair.

'I don't know' he admits.

With that you begin to walk out of his hotel room. Tears falling one by one. You bring your hands around your arms, keeping yourself steady. In the distance you can faintly hear him call out your name. Or at least you think so.  You see him one last time before entering the lift and making your way down the ground floor. The entrance is flooded with paparazzi. Cameras flashing everywhere. As you try to move out of the commotion a hand pulls you back in. Familiar hands. Soft and gentle.

'Please Y/N, if you'd let me finish' he cries out.

You can't bare to look at him. But you know he's hurt. Upset.

'I don't know what we are. I just don't. But I do know, I need you' his voice cracks.

You finally look up, cupping his face with your hands. Tears are falling and you wipe them away.

'I fucking need you' his lips quiver.

It's not easy for a rockstar. Touring all the time. Doing interviews and writing albums after albums. Meet and greets and many more. It's so draining. But with you, every day feels so much brighter.

He nestles his face in the crevice of your neck, leaving a gentle kiss in its wake.

'I want you to be my girlfriend. I want to wake up every morning, just to see your beautiful face. I want to take you on dates and make love to you till the early hours of the morning. Fuck, I want all of that. But I can't even fucking do all that because management won't let me' he cries out.

'But please, stay with me' his shaky voice begs.

and so you lay by his side, softly running your hand up and down his back. You knew this wasn't going to be easy. Keeping it secretive. But you needed him just as much he needed you.