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Pen Your Pride

Harry Styles One Shot

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I was bored and then I heard this song! This is just a one shot I made for myself :)


The razor kept tempting me. I wouldn’t do it, I know that much. But it was still tempting. I was holding it in my hand when the bathroom door creaked open and my boyfriend poked his head in. His eyes widened and he quickly grabbed the razor and threw it across the room.

“Why would you even think about hurting yourself?” he asked.

“I’m ugly,” I whispered.

“You’re beautiful,” he replied.

“I’m fat,” I sniffled.

“You have curves,” he said, rubbing his fingers under my eyes. “Curves any girl would want.”

I looked up into his emerald green eyes. “How can you love me?”

He sighed. “Come on. They boys and I have to show you something.”

I stood up and grabbed my boyfriend’s hand. I thought I would be able to deal with the hate. But I’m finding it really hard being the girlfriend of Harry Styles.

I can still remember when we met for the first time:

*Flashback *

“Mom, I’ll be fine. I’m only in London for 2 weeks, and then I’ll be home,” I reassured my mom for the 20th time. “I love you. I’ll call you later.”

I hung up and wandered off to the baggage claim, looking for my bags. I found them quickly and grabbed them before they could pass me. I noticed my backpack missing and panicked. That backpack seriously held my entire life.

“Looking for this?” a familiar voice asked.

I spun around and noticed 5 boys. One with startling green eyes was holding my backpack. I sighed.

“Yeah. I don’t know what I would do without it.”

The boy pulled it back as I tried grabbing it. He and another boy laughed. A boy with chocolate brown eyes grabbed it and handed it to me.

“Thank you.”

“You’re American?” he asked.

“Born and raised in Michigan. I’m here for a two week vacation,” I told him.

“I’m Liam,” the boy introduced.

I smirked. “I know. You’re One Direction. I’m not that stupid.”

I turned and began walking away when Harry yelled, “What’s your name?”

“Logan,” I called back.

*End of Flashback *

I met them the summer before my senior year. And once those two weeks were over, I was back home.

When they came in concert, I got tickets. I was fortunate enough to sit in the fourth row. They were singing “Moments” when Harry’s eyes found my own. It was after the concert that we met again:

*Flashback *

“Logan!” that accent I loved yelled.

“You remember my name?” I asked as I faced him.

“Um, yeah. You were the only girl I’ve met who didn’t seem to care that I was Harry Styles,” Harry explained.

“I love your music, but I’m not one of those girls who want to basically jump you right then and there, or anywhere for that matter.”

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