Harry Styles imagines + preferences

Always on my mind

Saw the Elvis movie. God it was fantastic. Sad, hot. Absolutely amazing. This is based on the movie where Harry does shows, dances and sings but outside the spotlight he feels lonesome and lost.

The constant scrutiny, criticism, cameras flashing, made his life a living hell. He loved the passion, the thrive moving his hips to the rhythm of his songs. He loved the fans screaming, touching, dancing. But out of the spotlight he was a nobody. A lost boy reaching for happiness that was impossible to find.

That's when he met you. At a party one night. You were naive. Stubborn and absolutely stunning in his eyes. Yet you couldn't be with him. Not ever because your parents never liked him.

'I swear to god if my parents say one more thing about you, I will-'

Harry places his lips on yours, hungrily. His hands cupping around your neck, letting his fingers tangle in your hair. But he pulls away, staring into your soft eyes.

'You talk too much' he chuckles.

You roll your eyes at him, placing a soft kiss to his lips once again. He pulls you closer. His lips lingering far longer on yours. His hand unzips your dress slowly, brushing at your bare skin with his other. His eyes never once leaving yours.

Fast forward, your flying from one country to another. Nights in lavish hotel rooms. Nights amongst screaming girls. Nights doubting everything. Maybe he'll leave me for someone else. But he always assures you that he would never. He loves you too much for that. After every show he would be back in hotel rooms, holding you in his arms as his eyes grow heavy. You would kiss him Goodnight and nestle your face into his chest. He never told you how he really felt. How exhausting the shows were and how lost he felt without you. How lonesome he felt without you and so he would push those thought away, until he couldn't take it any longer. Tears falling as his hands fisted your dress. You caressed his cheeks, wiping them away.

'Shh, baby. Don't cry' you try to comfort him.

It's a circle game. Reminding him of the lonesome nights after one show to another. The early days of him feeling empty, sadness.

'It's just- I love singing and performing but then I come home and I'm completely lost, broken' he admits.

'Hey, you have me. I'm here' you whisper.

Your hands still caress his face as he slowly regains his breath. His tears slowly fading. You were his comfort, his home and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

On one particular night after his show, he comes back to his hotel room. Your at home looking after your daughter. He can't help the heart aching pain in his chest. So he gets up and dials your number. Your soft voice can be heard from the other end.

'I m-miss you' he quivers.

You immediately get out of bed, pacing around the room while your on the phone with him. His voice choking slightly.

'I miss you too baby. But not long until tour is over' you remind him.

That night you talked for hours until he finally fell asleep. It was a long painful experience, being without you but he knew it was all worth it by the end.