Harry Styles One Shots

JALBOYH (ii)

Summary: Harry and Y/N are in an open relationship

Warnings: angst and a teensy bit of smut?

Word Count: 4870 words

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Y/N woke up with no indents of Harry's body creased on the navy blue sheets of their bed, indicating that he didn't come home last night and probably spent the rest of the evening at some lesser-known hotel to avoid the attention. She sighed, already used to it but the stabbing pain in her chest didn't come any softer. She had just woken up and her mood was ruined, but she knew she couldn't let this affect her for the whole day.

Y/N slipped her feet into the fuzzy slippers by her side of the bed, feet shuffling lazily on the hardwood flooring leading to the bathroom where she freshened up for the day. Grabbing her towel, she hung it on the rack before sliding the glass door of the standing shower to the side to let her hand in through the crack and turn the water knob on. The stream of water took her by surprise, jumping a few centimetres off the ground. Y/N waited until it was warm enough for her liking before stripping off of her pyjamas, leaving it huddled on the marble floor.

The hot jets massaged her sore muscles and wiped off the excess makeup that the makeup remover and night wash couldn't get off. It was relieving, to say the least, and she slowly felt her body relax against the open air of the shower space. While cleaning her body with soap, she was taken by surprise when a gruff voice cut off her slightly off time singing and cold arms wrapping themselves around her body.

"Hey love," Harry murmured against the name of her neck.

She turned around to face him, her breath meeting the expanse of his tanned chest. Y/N inspected his face; glowing and bright. Although she was happy that his skin was thriving, the reasoning behind as to why that was was something that Y/N wasn't ready to proclaim.

"When did you get home?" Y/N littered small kisses on his jawline, feeling the rough stubble of his five o'clock shadow.

"A couple of minutes ago," He answered, tilting his head up to catch the water on his mop of hair, getting the strands wet and damp.

Y/N caught sight of the dark hickeys dotted on his neck–and chest–to which she hadn't seen earlier because of his unexpected arrival. The lighting glimmered a new area of his skin where marks of infidelity decorated him. Some of them were bruised while others were a light shading of red—but all of them proved that Harry did shag the woman in the red dress last night. Somehow, Y/N had convinced herself to always see the good in Harry and that meant creating scenarios where he rejects any women who weren't her in their advances. She was sadly disproven once again.

Harry looked down at her when he felt her fingers tracing the bruises, hissing slightly when she tapped a bit harsher than usual. In an odd way, Y/N felt a sense of smugness knowing that he was hurting. She saw it as a way of punishing him for being away from her for another night. Another lonely time laying in bed where she wondered what she could've done better.

"Ouch!" He wheezed, wincing at the pain when she pressed on the purple one by his left pec.

Y/N ignored his complaint, advising him to turn around so she could clean his back off the sweat and brine that must've built up in the span of twenty-four hours. What she saw made her gasp; completely horrified by the scarlet lacerated marks striping his back muscles.

"Is it that bad?" His head glanced over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the traces that caused a dull pain on his back. He knew they were there ever since he woke up this morning with a sore torso. The cab driver he hitched a ride for stared at him from the mirror when Harry jolted his back upright as soon as it rubbed against the leather seat, laughing sarcastically at his pain.