Harry Styles One Shots

Closed Off: the one where harry doesn't share his feelings

"Harry?" She uttered, albeit quite hesitantly. She didn't want to startle him.

The white sheets ruffled, his body assumingly moving towards her direction. Y/N's feet were planted a few meters in front of the foot of the bed.

"Y/N?" Harry's voice was hoarse. He hadn't used it in days, he didn't have a reason to. "What are you doing here?"

Still, she couldn't see his face from the mountain of fabric shielding it. If she could though, he would probably be looking at her with disappointed eyes as if to say 'why did you waste your time on me'.

"Nobody's seen you for days, H" She sighed out, shoulders dropping because of the state she had found him in. "We're worried about you,"

"Tell them not to," It was a gruff reply, signifying that he was annoyed--at himself, mostly. Even if he was or wasn't present, he always put a burden on other people and he was sick of it.

Y/N stared at his figure, appalled. Why couldn't he accept that there are others out there who cared about him? "Can you sit up, please?"

There was a pregnant pause and Harry's brain was howling for his body to move as she had requested. He sat up on the bed, seeing Y/N's face with a crease on her brows and a crumpled lip that was sucked in with worry.

"'M up," As much as his body felt twofold his actual weight, he forced himself to steady his body for her.

Y/N slipped into the space of the bed beside him. Her sock-clad feet rubbed against the soft material. She was on her knees, skeptically looking at the man in front of her.

"What have you been up to?" She asked, taking his limp hand in her possession. "Been away for quite a while,"

Harry zoned in on where their bodies touched. In all honesty, his mind was blank and he knew that he had no intention of answering her question. He could only hope that she'd drop it and move on, or drop it and leave so that he could get back to wallowing in his self-pity.

"Harry?"

He cleared his throat, rubbing the tip of his nose with his finger. "I've been um, I've been at home,"

"This whole time?" Y/N pressed, lingering small circles on where his thumb met his hand.

He nodded, throat feeling drier than usual. Maybe because he hadn't been drinking enough water as needed.

"Well," She pouted, head tilting to the side in confusion. "What were you up to then?"

"I'm just-I was thinking,"

"About what?"

Harry took a sharp breath of air that caused Y/N to look up to his face. Her eyes squinted suspiciously.

"J-just things, you know,"

"No, I don't know actually," he closed his eyes, silently praying that she'd leave it as it is. "Can you tell me?"

"I can't," He whispered, lips barely separating to let the words simmer in the air around them. "M sorry,"

"Why can't you?" Y/N challenged. In her mind, she became aware of the actual problem of the situation.

Harry was thinking and it caused him to overthink. Right now, he was probably hoping that she would stop questioning him.

"I just can't, Y/N"