SUMMARY: Harry Styles is back in town and all eyes are on the two of you, because everyone knows how much he broke your heart when he left.
PAIRING: exboyfriend!Harry x Reader
WORD COUNT: 5.6k
You always thought the saying 'talk of the town' wasn't real, not in the way movies loved to portray. The whispers behind someone's back, the stares, the looks, it all seemed way too dramatic to be real. Right until you became the person it happened to.
December is by far your favorite time of the year. You hate to be a cliché, but it truly is the most wonderful time of the year. The town turns into a cozy winter wonderland, every shop and home is decorated, lights are guiding the way through the streets you know better than the back of your hand, the smell of mulled wine and hot chocolate puts a spell on you every time you walk past the square in front of the town hall, there is nothing that could ruin this time of the year for you.
Or so you thought. Because the returning of Harry Styles just made you the talk of the town and ruined the festive mood for sure.
Who would want to step out of the house just to see everyone looking at them with pitiful looks, whispering about the poor girl who now has to face the guy who broke her heart? No, that's not even expressive enough to describe what Harry did to you when he left town five years ago, never even looking back to see the mess he left behind him.
Word spread across town fast when he was first spot at his mother's house, picking up some old stuff of his. Mrs. Cromwell saw him through her kitchen window. She phoned Mrs. Adler who was just about to leave to the grocery store. She told the news to everyone she ran into and in a matter of hours everyone in town knew that Harry was back.
Including you.
It's been a week since the first sighting and your life has turned upside down since then. Everyone wants to know what you think about his return, how you're doing now that you can practically run into him anywhere and anytime.
Well, you're already over that.
The first meeting went just as awkward as one would expect. He came into your bakery on a Tuesday afternoon, you were shocked to be face-to-face with him at first and he seemed just as speechless as he stared back at you while everyone else around you were dying for the scene to unfold.
When the two of you recovered, the conversation went something like this:
"What are you doing here?"
"I've moved back."
"No, what are you doing in my bakery?"
"I came to see you."
"But I don't want to see you."
"Can we talk? Please?"
"No."
And with that, you rushed back and locked yourself into the closet sized office for an entire hour. He was gone by that and so you ignored the curious stare of your employees and carried on like nothing happened.
Since then, you've been avoiding him at all cost and you realized you can do that the best if you just never go anywhere. His return is nerve wrecking enough already, but he has managed to ruin your favorite time of the year for you too. You can't enjoy the Christmas market, the decoration, the festive vibes because every time you step out you're afraid you might run into him again.
You're convinced you wouldn't survive it.
Looking at him last time was painful enough, mostly because you clearly see the version of him you were in love with and who broke your heart and left without looking back. You could notice the changes on him, his hair, his face, it wasn't the same and yet... you were still stuck in the past.
There's just way too much hurt in you after what happened, lots of questions and even more anger towards him that you've kept bottled up all these years and you fear you might snap if you have to face him again.
"Are you gonna hide in the back today as well?"
Willa, your student cashier gives you a look as you walk past her when you finally arrive in the afternoon. She's been working for you for almost a year, she's trust-worthy and very hard-working, but she also has a tendency to speak her mind quite openly. She is never afraid to call you out when you're acting ridiculously.
"I'm not hiding," you hiss at her. "I have... some billing... stuff to do," you mumble and you wonder how you got to the point where a seventeen years old girl is telling you off when you were supposed to be her boss.
"Whatever you say, boss," she shrugs as an elderly woman walks in and she busies herself with serving her.
"Kids these days..." you mutter under your breath before locking yourself up in your office.
Running your own business luckily usually has your hands full when you're at the bakery, so you forget about Harry's existence as you dive right into work. Unfortunately, it seems like today won't be the day when you can escape through work.
"Boss?" Willa appears at the backdoor right after you finished a call with one of your suppliers.
"What's up?" you smile at her, but then see the worried look on her face and you just know already what this is about. "Don't say—"
"He's here. Asking for you."
"Damn it," you groan, burying your face in your hands. "Tell him I'm not here."
"That's not gonna work."
"Why not?"
"Because I already told him you're here."
"Fuck," you whisper. "Okay, then tell him—"
"Or maybe you could just talk to him."
Harry's voice startles you. You both look at him, he's standing a few feet away from you and you feel heat rushing through your veins, which is kind of useful since you're not wearing a coat and it's quite freezing out here.
"I'll be... in my spot," you hear Willa say before rushing back inside, leaving you alone.
"I'm sorry, but I'm really busy and whatever you want—"
"I want to talk, Y/N. You can't just avoid me forever, I live here now."
"The town is not that small, we can just live next to each other without crossing paths." You turn to head back inside, but he grabs your hand and pulls you back, the sudden touch of his hand on your skin sending jolts of electricity through your whole body. You yank it back as you turn to face him.
"Y/N, don't you think we should at least just talk it over?"
"You wanna talk? You wanna talk about how you fucked me over? How you broke my heart and left me when I needed you the most? How you said you'd love me forever, but you didn't even love me enough to stay when I put all my money into starting a business and a life here?"
"Y/N—"
"I never wanted to do it alone! I explicitly told you that I don't want to go into it on my own and you said you'd be here and that we could do it together. And then you lost your mind, said you can't handle being tied down here and that you needed freedom. You threw me away like you didn't promise me forever a million times before. So you want to talk about that?"
Your sudden outburst is a surprise to the both of you, but it also feels liberating to unload it all.
"I think we are way past the talking phase, Harry. You wanted to leave, me and the town, whatever! You can do whatever you want even if it destroys other people. But don't be surprised when said people don't want you in their life."
This time he doesn't try to stop you when you storm back inside. He doesn't come after you either.
You think about your encounter nonstop for the next few days. He is all you think about and you hate him for that. You also ponder whether you were way too harsh with him or not, but you always get to the same conclusion. Your words do not compare to the pain he caused you when he left.
The twenty-third is the last day the bakery is open, but seeing the heavy snowing in the morning you ring in to tell the shift that you'll be in soon and they can leave early, have the rest of the day off. It's a little past ten when you arrive, you help them close and prepare the place for the few days off. You stay after everyone is gone, doing some last minute paperwork and barely even notice how time flew by.
And how much snow has fallen.
"Shit," you mumble under your breath when you see the whole street covered in inches of fresh, white snow and it's still heavily falling. The wind has picked up too, it might soon turn into a whole storm so you better get going.
You parked down in front of the bakery, so you easily get in, but as you try to start the car, it refuses to do anything.
"Come on, come on!" you groan, turning the key in the ignition over and over again, but it wouldn't start. You're forced to walk home, which means about 45 minutes out in this weather.
You zip up your jacket, pull your hat on and brace yourself for freezing to death before getting out of the car and you just start walking, hoping for the best. The first few steps are not that bad, you let yourself believe you'll be home in no time, but by the time you reach the corner, you're thinking about just turning back and waiting for the end of the snowing in the bakery. You're eyes are watering up, but the cold wind is practically freezing it onto your cheeks. There's snow everywhere, your feet are slipping on the ice underneath the fresh snow and you know it's just a matter of time until you land on your ass.
And then a car pulls up beside you.
"Y/N? What are you doing out here?" Harry calls out over the passenger seat.
"Having a grill party, what do you think?" you scoff, pulling your jacket tighter around you. "My car died."
"Get in, you're gonna get pneumonia!"
"No thank you, I'm totally fine!" you stubbornly say and start walking again.
"Y/N, please! I'm not letting you walk home, you'll never make it on foot!" He drives slowly beside you as a harsh wind blows right into your face, almost pushing you off your feet. "Just get in the car!"
You clench your jaw as you think about your choices: freezing to death on your way home or spending a few minutes in a car with Harry to get home safely. It's a hard one.
"No talking, okay?" you say as you get in his car, the warmed up seat immediately melting up your frozen muscles.
"Okay," he nods as he starts driving, but the silence lasts for about five minutes. "You really thought it was a good idea to walk home in this weather?"
"Where's the no talking?"
"I'm sorry, but you just... You've always been so stubborn, it's good to know you're the same," he chuckles softly, but it just gets your blood boiling.
"I'm not the same and you know nothing about my stubbornness. Now would you just drive me home and not talk to me like you promised? Though promises don't mean shit to you, that I know."
Your words cut like a knife, but at least he goes silent. Staring out the window you watch the snow fall, it's unusually thick, you haven't seen anything like this in years around here. It mesmerizes you so much you don't even notice where you're going, only when Harry kills the engine and you see an unknown building instead of your home.
"What? Where are we?" you ask, looking around, trying to see what part of town you're at but you can't make out because of the snow.
"My place," he answers.
"Why? I don't live here, take me home!"
"Y/N, your home is another at least fifteen minute drive from here, but I can barely see the front of the car in the snow. Just wait it out at mine and then I'll take you home."
"Hell no! I'm not waiting for anything!" you protest.
"I bet Clement Road is already blocked, we wouldn't even make it to your place!"
"You planned this whole thing out, didn't you?"
"What?" he chuckles in disbelief. "Oh yes, I ordered the snowstorm and killed your car too."
"Wait, you did?" your eyes widen. "I-I mean the car, did you do it?"
"Oh my God, Y/N, I did not!" he throws his hands into the air. "I did not mess with your car, I was coming from my grandma when I saw you. Now please just be rational for a minute and wait until the snow stops. I promise, I will take you home as soon as the roads are drivable."
You hate to admit that he is right, that it's your only and best choice if you don't want to walk home and freeze to death. So, true to your stubborn self you get out of the car without a word and march up to the front door of the house he parked in front of. Moments later you hear him get out of the car too.
"The no talking rule still applies," you mumble under your breath as Harry keys the two of you into the townhouse. He nods, pushing the door open and lets you go inside first.
It hasn't processed that you're now entering his private space, a place that's his home, but you've never been to. He was still living with his mum when the two of you dated, you knew that house like the back of your hand, it was a second home to you. You haven't been there since the breakup.
"How wet are you?" he asks and your eyes snap wide.
"What?"
"Your clothes," he adds with a cheeky smirk hiding in the corners of his mouth. "How wet did they get? Do you want a change?"
"Um... My pants are kinda saggy. And my socks."
"I'll get you a full change. Make yourself home," he says, before disappearing down the hallway.
For a few seconds you don't move, feeling odd to be here, but when you recover, you wander into the living room that's on the right from the front door, looking around curiously.
He still hasn't packed out fully, there are a few boxes lying here and there, but the place looks cozy already and most importantly a lot like him. You see pieces of him everywhere, decors and furniture that just screams Harry, or at least the Harry you know from years ago.
He returns with a pile of clothes in his hands and he has already changed as well into sweatpants and a shirt.
"Here, the bathroom is on the left, throw your wet clothes into the dryer. I'll make us hot tea."
He hands you over the clothes and his signature smell hits your nose right away, nostalgia washing over you as you nod hazily and leave to the bathroom. You strip out of your wet clothes and put on the sweatpants and shirt he gave you and suddenly you're back in time when you used to spend days without end at Harry's and you had to wear his clothes because you've run out of yours. You loved stealing his hoodies and shirts, they felt like his warm embrace, but now... it confuses you.
Walking out you hear him on the phone and judging from the conversation, it's probably Anne. He has put the kettle on, two mugs set on the kitchen counter as he stands by the window, staring out while talking to his mother. You don't want to invade on the private conversation, so you return to the living room and snoop around a bit.
What caught your attention first thing when you walked in is the fireplace. He used to tell you about how much he wanted one so he could drink tea and read in front of it. You wonder if it's what sold him the place when he was looking around.
On top of the fireplace there are a bunch of memorabilia, picture frames, gifts he has gotten over the years. It wouldn't be that big of a deal, but as you scan over it, you find more and more things that are connected to you.
First there's a candle you bought for him after a fight as your peace offer. Then there's a photo framed from Anne's birthday, it's got her, Harry, Gemma and you on it. The more photos you look at, the more you're met with yourself. You would have never expected him to showcase any pictures that has you in it, but he clearly doesn't mind looking at you every day. Reaching into the little wooden box that sits on the left edge of the fireplace, you find movie and theater tickets, most of them he used with you on dates. He has a whole stack, probably with every movie and play you two have seen and there are a lot.
"I kept them all."
His voice startles you, you were so busy snooping around you didn't notice he finished his call. Shutting the lid of the box you turn around and fold your arms over your chest to stop you from touching anything.
"Why?" you question.
"Because they are memories. Good ones."
He sets down two mugs on the coffee table, hot tea steaming from them, but they get ignored as he walks up to you and grabs the box. Digging into the tickets he grabs one and hands it over to you.
"Do you remember this?"
Taking the piece of paper you look at the title. It's from the old cinema in town you used to go to almost every month. They always had some of the old gems playing and you loved having the experience of being in the movies, watching a film that can't be seen elsewhere.
This particular ticket was for The Breakfast Club, one of your biggest favorites. You missed the few times they played it in the theater and you were bummed. So Harry got them to add one more date, on your birthday. It was the sweetest thing someone has ever done for you and you'd be lying if you said it doesn't fills your chest with warmth.
It's a happy memory you share with him.
"I remember it. Yeah," you say, clearing your throat as you hand the ticket back, knowing you have it saved at home too.
"You've seen that movie so many times, you were mumbling the lines next to me," he chuckles, as he places the box back.
"Why do you have all these?"
"Told you, they are good memories," he shrugs, ignoring what you really meant by your question.
"You shouldn't be holding onto them," you shake your head, taking a few steps away from him to put some distance between the two of you.
"Why?"
"Because you left me," you snap at him. "These memories weren't good enough for you to keep you here. With me."
Spite is dripping from your words, words you've been meaning to get off your chest, but you kept them buried deep inside you.
"Y/N, I didn't leave because I didn't want to be with you or because I wasn't happy."
"Oh, so you just woke up one day and decided you had better things to do?" you scoff.
"Jesus, would you stop belittling our relationship and my feelings for you?"
"Feelings?" you can't stop yourself from laughing. "What feelings did you have that made you leave me, huh?"
Whenever you thought of having this conversation with Harry you imagined yourself staying calm and collected, not letting him show how much he hurt you, but you're more like a deranged mess.
"I panicked, Y/N, okay? I was... I was young and for a moment I felt like I was running out of time. I was wrong, but by the time I realized, it was too late."
"Trapped? You felt trapped in our relationship? Well, that's just great to know."
"I had no reason to feel like that, it was a momentary craziness. Have you not gone through that? Have you never questioned your decisions before?"
"Of course I did, but I didn't move across the country or left behind the people I said I love." It's a hit below belt, but you can't help it.
"I made mistakes, I'm human! But I'm here to make things right!"
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"That I'm here to earn your forgiveness. I hurt you, caused you a lot of pain and I want to make up for that."
"That's very noble, but I'm not a partner in that."
"I'm not asking you to take me back, I know I fucked up big time. I'm just trying to do the right thing and earn your forgiveness."
"Stop saying that!" you growl.
"What?"
"That you want to earn your forgiveness!"
"But it's the truth!"
"You wouldn't need my forgiveness if you loved be enough to stay!"
"Would you stop refuting my feelings?!"
"Don't lecture me about your feelings! I'm only seeing the facts, that you didn't love me enough not to leave! So if you want to get me to believe you still love me and want me back, I can assure you, it's not enough now! You left me when we had so much at stake, when I spent all my money on a business we were supposed to start together! I was all alone, I lost my lover, I lost my faith in a future we planned together! If you loved me, you wouldn't have done that!"
"You think I don't love you?" he raises his voice, clearly short on his patience as well.
"Oh, I know you don't!" you scream at him.
For a few heartbeats he just stares at you and you have no idea where this is about to go. Then, without a word he storms back into his bedroom and you stand there, stunned with your chest heaving.
When he appears a few moments later he is carrying a big cartboard box. He throws it to the floor in front of you and opening he reveals a big collection of... everything that has anything to do with you.
"I kept every tiny thing that reminds me of you. Everything! All of our polaroids!" He grabs the dozens of photos the two of you took over the years and throws up into the air like confetti. "I have every gif you gave me, every clothes you got me, everything!"
He keeps throwing things out, laying them in front of your feet as you stare at him with your lips parted.
"These," he continues, holding up a stack of papers, "are letters I wrote to you since I left. Over eighty letters, Y/N! Every time I wanted to run back to you begging for you to take me back, I remembered that you probably hate me, so I wrote you letters I never sent!"
He throws the letters into the air too and you watch them fly around in the room as Harry stands up.
"Wanna know why I still have these? Why I'm here? Why I came back? The only fucking reason I came back?"
Blinking you feel a tear rolling down your cheek.
"Why?" you whisper.
"Because I love you! I never fucking stopped loving you, Y/N!" he screams at you and this time you. "And if I have to spend the rest of my life paying for what I did to you, I will fucking do it, because you're my everything and I would rather atone forever than live a moment knowing I didn't try everything to make up for what I did!"
He's breathing heavily and so are you. The intensity of the moment is swallowing you in whole and you feel like you could just collapse any moment. His confession has broken everything you've built up in you in the past years and now as you stare back at him, you go fully blank before...
You move before you could even think and Harry mirrors you the same moment, the two of you meet halfway and unite in hard, demanding kiss you've fantasized about so many times, beating yourself up about it.
You lose every ounce of self-control, you both do. Everything you do is so primal, just wanting to fulfill this burning need inside you for each other. You push against Harry, fingers grabbing onto his hair hard while his hands dig into your waist, he is making you walk backwards, stumbling and stepping on his letters and polaroids, but nothing matters.
It's tug of war as you head to the bedroom without stopping the hungry, almost violent kissing and you tear your clothes off of each other as if they were poisonous. When he presses you against the wall at one point, pushing his erection against you, a loud cry bursts out of you, grabbing onto him even more desperately.
By the time he throws you onto the mattress you're naked and he's ridding himself of his last piece of clothing. You moan as you see his hard cock springing free, begging to be buried in you finally. He climbs on top of you and the weight of his body presses you into the mattress heavenly. You don't even notice that you've started crying as you cling onto him as if your life depended on it.
He stops for a moment, brushing the tears off of your face.
"Hey," he softly says, kissing the corner of your mouth and lifting himself up. "We don't have to do this if you—"
"Please!" you gasp, pulling him back. "Please stay here," you beg, linking your arms behind his head to keep him as close as possible. "Please stay here," you repeat and you both know your words have a meaning beyond just wanting to keep him in your embrace in this moment.
"I'm not going anywhere. I'm yours forever," he assures before thrusting into you. "I'm yours forever."
***
Harry seems to be asleep beside you when you finally decide to get out of bed and get yourself a glass of water. He stirs gently when the mattress moves underneath you, but doesn't open his eyes. Quietly, you make your way to the kitchen and grab his shirt from the floor, pulling it on. You grab a glass and fill with tap water and stare out the window while sipping on it.
The storm has stopped, everything is covered in fresh, thick snow, right in time so you'll have a white Christmas.
You repeat what happened tonight over and over again, trying to figure out how you truly feel about it. When you had Harry pressed up against you, you clearly wanted him in any and every way possible, but now that the lust as died down, momentarily, you're finally using your brain to think.
You might have jumped at him too fast, it doesn't mean that everything is smoothed out and there are no hard feelings. There are still questions and fears in you that you won't be able to bottle up anymore.
"Everything alright?"
Harry's voice startles you again and as you turn around you see him padding closer to you, wearing his sweatpants and a sleepy look on his face. He stops a few feet away from you, assessing your expression and he sees you the worry etched onto your face.
"Talk to me, Y/N," he whispers, taking your face in his hands and you hold onto his wrists.
"We got a little carried away."
"Do you regret it?" he asks and you can see panic rising in him.
"No," you say without hesitation. "But... I can't do this if you're gonna leave again."
Tears dwell in your eyes. You're not angry anymore, but scared, that you'll get hurt again, because you fear you wouldn't survive it.
"I meant what I said, Y/N. I'm not going anywhere. Unless you want me to leave. I'm never making the same mistake again, I paid for it too." Leaning down he kisses you softly, painting his promise onto your lips. "I promised myself I would be home this Christmas. But it's not the town. You're my home."
You breathe in his words, let the relief settle in your chest as you nod and rest your forehead against his. Minutes pass by and he just holds you, ensures you silently that you're not about to make a mistake by starting over with him.
"You must have heard how popular the bakery got, huh?" you joke with a chuckle.
"Ah, absolutely," he grins, kissing the tip of your nose.
"I'm not letting you get into the business though."
"So I can't be a kept man? Damn it!" he laughs and you giggle against his neck. "I'll prove you that it's not a mistake, okay? I'll earn your trust back."
"Okay," you whisper with a nod.
"Come on, let's get back to bed. We can talk more in the morning."
You follow him back into the bedroom and you gladly settle in his embrace, cocooned in his arms, knowing that this Christmas you'll be home too.
Harry's arms are clinging onto you when you slowly wake in the morning. His hands have sneaked underneath your shirt, the warmth of his palms coating your naked skin underneath the layers.
He has always been a clingy sleeper, you learnt that early in your relationship. All those mornings you spent tangled up in each other, soft, lazy kisses, Harry's hands all over you, because he could never get enough of you.
"I love you, my Y/N."
"My sweet love, good morning."
"So soft, so warm, all mine."
He was always the sweetest in the morning. And he was the same the day he decided to leave. You felt his touch on your waist, stomach and chest, he hugged you tight, his body pressed up against yours in bed as the morning sunshine beamed through the window. It was like every other morning, only that he didn't go to bed with you that day.
You stretch blindly, enjoying the feeling of Harry wrapped around you, but slowly, you feel like you're tossed back in time to the day he left, reliving the possibly worst day of your life.
"Mm, morning," Harry murmurs behind you, his lips pressing to your shoulder before he gently turns you in his arms and he kisses your pouty lips once. Twice. But before he could go for a third one, he realizes something is off. "Babe?"
"I'm... S-sorry, I just..." you sit up in bed, looking around, taking in your surroundings as sleep wears off of your eyes. You're in Harry's bedroom at his new place, yet you still feel like you're in the past, stuck with the version of Harry that will leave you. Again.
"Hey, it's alright. Just breathe for me." He gently rubs your back as your breaths are rapidly heaving through your chest. "It's alright, baby."
"Are you gonna leave?"
The words roll down your tongue before you could even think twice and you want to take them back, afraid that they might hurt him, but they also root from your fears you're still struggling with.
Harry stares back at you for a moment and you expect him to walk out on you, but it never happens. Instead, he cups your face in his hand and leaning closer he brushes his lips softly against yours.
"I'm not leaving, Y/N. Never. I know it's hard to see anything other than the past, but I will work hard to change that."
"It's just... so many things remind me of what was before," you whisper, almost embarrassed, but you just can't help this feeling that keeps crawling up your spine, into your mind.
"I know. It's okay, I don't expect you to change so fast, I know I have to work for it and we'll get there, to the point where I earn your trust back. Okay?"
"Okay," you nod shortly as he rests his forehead against yours.
"I love you. We'll get through this."
"I love you too," you coo and crawl to his lap, letting him wrap in his embrace as he lies back in bed, pulling you with him.
"Do you remember how we used to spend Christmas?"
"Yeah," you nod. "We got a Christmas tree together just before Christmas, made gingerbread house and exchanged gifts on the twenty-fourth, because we were too excited to wait till the morning," you say with a tiny chuckle.
"What if we did everything different from now on? Make new traditions?"
"What do you have in mind?"
"Well, we could decorate the tree earlier, look for a different recipe to bake and wait till the morning with the gifts."
"We could attempt to wait... But we might fail."
A laugh rumbles through Harry's chest from where you lift your head to look at him.
"I'm sorry I freaked out on you."
"Don't be. Just let me be there for you when it happens."
"Okay," you whisper and push yourself up so your lips could meet his and this time, it finally feels new. It's your fresh start.