Harry Styles Imagines

•please come home•

CREDITS TO THE OWNER. THIS BEAUTIFUL IMAGINE ISN'T MINE.

http://suddenclarityharry.tumblr.com/post/103771477712/1d-preferences-you-break-up-he-regrets-it

Harry never looked all that broken up about losing you and that's what still hurts the most when you see him in interviews on television or in the youtube videos you'd never admit to anyone that you still watch. When you left, moving into a flat of your own, you could never get used to how empty the bed felt without Harry next to you, how quiet things were without his slow, melodic rambling and low, enticing chuckles. It's killing you how much you miss him and how much he doesn't seem to have the same problem. It's been almost a month and you haven't heard anything from Harry or his band mates who you had considered your friends but you suppose they were Harry's friends first so you shouldn't feel too badly that none of them appear to be talking to you. Not that you've tried calling them. You've considered it but you think it would just hurt more to be so close to Harry and yet still so far away.

You cuddle up with a pillow on your sofa as you prepare yourself for another night of ice cream and romantic movies that are only going to end up making you cry more in the long run. Half-way through the movie, there is suddenly a knock at your door.

You stumble from the sofa with a tissue in your hand and almost slip on the oversized sweats you are wearing that you stole from Harry when you'd moved your stuff out of your old flat and into this one. Catching yourself, you tug the sweats up on your legs as you continue toward the door. You open it to find Louis standing there looking nervous.

"Oh, thank God!" he says pulling you into a bone-crunching hug. "When you two broke up, Harry deleted your number from all of our phones. I've been looking everywhere for you!"

When Louis decides to let go and let you breathe again, you look at him in confusion.

"What were you looking for me for?" You ask.

"So I can take you back to Harry, where you belong," he answers with a look that seems to say duh.

You shake your head.

"He seems to be doing just fine without me," You say not bothering to hide your bitterness. This is Louis you are talking to after all. He'll see right through any act you try to put on. "And who says I want to go back?"

Louis looks at you like he can't believe how daft you are.

"A) You're wearing his sweats as we speak. B) You have the picture I took before your first date on your side table, over there," he says pointing behind you and watching you wince at the fact that he noticed. "And C) You're rubbing the tattoo you got on your 3 month anniversary."

You look down to see that he's right; you are rubbing the small flower tattoo on your wrist. You stop immediately. Damn that Louis for being so perceptive.

"And, love," he says looking at you with nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "He hasn't left my flat since you moved out."

"What?" You nearly whisper.

Harry's been living with Louis all this time?

"Says he can't bear to live with the ghost of you. He wants the real thing."

You look at Louis with tears threatening to spill when something hits you.

"How did you find me?" You ask confused.

"Harry deleted your number from all our phones, he forgot to delete your mum's number from his," Louis answers with a smile. "A little creative thievery and a call to your mum brought me here."

You hug Louis tightly before pushing back again when your heart grips with a sudden fear.

"What if he doesn't really want me back?"

"He does, love. Call him, if you don't believe me," Louis answers with a laugh.

You pull out your cell phone but hesitate for a minute with your thumb over Harry's speed-dial before forcing yourself to push the button. You take a deep, steadying breath before pulling the phone to your ear.

Two rings. Two rings is all it takes for Harry to pick up.

"(Y/N)?!?" He asks slowly, hopefully. He may not have your number in his phone anymore but he stared at it for a long time before deleting it, so he knew the moment he saw it flash on his screen that it was you.

"Harry." You can feel the tears sliding down your cheeks.

There's a strangled cry on the other end of the line, followed by the shaky breaths of a crying Harry Styles.

"Baby, please come home," he says but it's little more than a whisper.

"On my way."