Harry Styles Imagines

better than love

or the one where Harry tries to fix his heart but keeps breaking it further instead.

First, it was drinking.

It had been a while since the last time he felt like he needed to drown his sorrows away, but the good thing about alcohol? It worked. Telling his manager and friends to fuck off with a head full of whiskey was easy, locking the door and forgetting about his phone along with the rest of the damn world was easier still.

Drinking himself closer and closer to oblivion each day in a desperate quest to become numb felt good, after all.

Until it didn't.

That was when the nightmares started, and they came way too soon. A couple of weeks wasn't nearly enough time for him to put YN safely into the corner of his mind, and if Harry felt like he couldn't breathe whenever he was walking down the street and heard a laugh that sounded like hers, the pain shooting through him as he woke up in an empty bed with the sound of her voice ringing in his ears simply couldn't be named.

He thought he could do it, he really did.

You know the one thing people don't tell you about making your wildest dream come true? How lonely it can make you. No matter how big you get, or how happy it makes you, by the end of the day, you're always alone.

That's almost good. Because it's a constant that you learn to live with, something you can hold on to when things get insane

He would be ok, he just needed time.

Or that was what the man kept telling himself as days went by and coming back to an empty apartment only served to break his heart over and over again.

He missed YN. Missed the way her voice carried over from the kitchen in the mornings, every day bringing a different song being hummed over her breath as the coffeemaker worked, the random texts he would get during the day as she made up stories for the couples that came in to enroll their kids at the nursery she worked at, hell, even the steam taking over the bathroom as she came out of the shower every evening, one of his shirts covering her body, a pout on her lips that he could never resist, cuddling herself into his body, closest as she could get.

Holding her...Styles missed it so much he would come to it every night with tingling fingertips, startling himself awake to the harsh reality that he'd lost her.

It never stopped.

He tried hiding it. Convinced himself it would go away once he got her back. She was there, with him. He loved her more than he knew he could ever love someone, and she loved him back just as much.

Alas, Harry couldn't fight the sheer need to touch her sometimes, the panic rising on his gut that made everything blurry, so intense it was hard to tell dreams from reality...that's what gave him away. Because when she looked at him, YN saw him. The parts of him he couldn't stand, the parts that the rest of the world painted as completely different ones...

She let him do it. Need her, as fiercely as his heart desired.

She lay by him every night as Harry shivered in the dark, her hands on his hair, combing the curls slowly as she told him to open his eyes, reminded him she was right there, that she wouldn't go anywhere. She let him hold her, his face on her neck as his heart raced on his chest, his weight close to crushing her figure, whispering how much she loved him.

YN let him be vulnerable...she let him be weak. That was what he would tell anyone who asked about their love for the years to come: that she was strong, so much that it slipped into him every time they touched.

That there wasn't a thing stronger than their love.

AN: Do you like angst? To be honest, I love writing it, even if my heart breaks when I hurt H...spare a comment? A vote?  Leave one and I'll see you soon (pretty please!)