Harry Styles Imagines Book 2

Cactus Mug

Harry has been on tour for months now. Waking up to a cold bed alone every day is something he’s made known he absolutely despises. As much as he loves performing in front of his fans every night, touring can get lonely. And some days are harder than others.
Today has been one of those days.
The first thing I did when I opened my eyes was to check my phone for a text message from Harry.
And like almost every single morning, there it was. The notification bubble with his contact name in.
H: Missing you extra tonight. I can’t wait to finally kiss you and have you in my arms again. This house doesn’t really feel like a home without you. So I might have tried out that new recipe you sent me the other day. The mushroom risotto. Not sure where I went wrong, but it didn’t taste very good. So you’ll have to show me how to make it when you get here. Only one more week, yeah? Goodnight, my love.

Reading it, all I could think about was the disappointed frown he must’ve had on his face when he realised that he had messed up the food. Knowing him, he would have eaten as much of it as he could stomach.
It was then I decided to call my boss and ask her if there was any chance that I could work from home. I wasn’t 100% sure if she would grant it, but she must’ve heard the desperation in my voice and decided to show me mercy.
Before Harry, I’d never seen myself as someone who would be able to be in a long-distance relationship. In the past when situations where a relationship would’ve become long distance, I was always the one to end it, not being able to stand being away from the person for that long.
But with Harry it was different. With him, it’s worth it.
That doesn’t mean I’m not counting down the days until we can be together again from the minute he leaves.
Which is why I didn’t think the flight through enough and ended up having to sprint through the airport to make it to my gate in order to not miss my flight, knowing I definitely forgot to pack something I’m going to need but it’s too late to worry about that now.
The second I’m squeezed between a teenage girl and a middle-aged man on the plane at 12:05 pm, I fish my phone out of my pocket again with hands shaky from excitement and nerves. Both over seeing Harry again and the sneaky element of flying to him without him knowing I am.
Me: Morning, Angel. I’ve got a really busy day at work today, so I’m sorry if I don’t get back to you before late. And of course, I’ll teach you how to make it (what would you do without me?). I love you higher than the sky xx
I’m hoping he won’t ask me any questions about what I’m going to be so busy with since I’m a horrible liar, especially under stress.
My prayers are answered when his reply comes almost immediately. The text message attached to a photo of his sleep-puffed face with his eyes closed, pink lips puckered and his hair wild and curly from sleep.
H: Sending all my love and kisses to you baby. Good luck with your day. If you’re not too tired when you get home, we could facetime? I miss your voice so much.

Me: It’ll be nice to see your face again. I miss it.
H: If you miss it too much you can always just look at your lock screen, you know.

Me: Yes. This solves all of my problems! Bye now, my love.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from smiling like a psychopath as I type out one last text message and attach a photo I know will hurt his ego a bit before I set my phone to flight mode.
There hasn’t gone a week since the photo was taken where I haven’t reminded him of its existence. If I can’t share it with anyone else, I’m gonna share it with him.
It was taken almost a year ago in the hotel room we were staying in. Harry had demanded that I take a photo of him with his new cactus mug. The mug was adorable and literally looked like a cactus. He had been posing by the sofa when he forgot that tea is hot. The sip of tea he’d just taken had been sent flying everywhere as well as all the tea that was still inside the mug.
I thank the lucky stars every day for live photos.
While he had been panicking about burning his tongue, he had ended up dropping the mug to the floor. Something he says he’s still upset over.
So last week, when I saw a mug almost identical to the one he broke, I had to buy it for him. It’s safely tucked in my bag. My favourite hoodie of Harry’s is wrapped around it to keep it from breaking. Hopefully.
“You need to put your seatbelt on, miss.”
The polite voice snaps me out of my thought, turning my head to look at the flight attendant. It takes me a second to comprehend, what she says, but when I do I thank her quickly, offering her a small smile before fastening my seatbelt.
When I’m secured, I plug my wired AirPods in, and try my best to get comfortable for the six-hour flight ahead of me
-
I’ve never really been a fan of flying.
The idea of being crammed in a metal box with a bunch of strangers high up in the clouds for a longer period of time just never appealed to me. Especially not with the occasional screaming baby.
But this might have been one of the least uncomfortable flights I’ve ever taken.
Sleeping for most of it might have a lot to do with it, but oh well.
I’m not gonna lie and say that it wasn’t a relief to finally exit the plane and stand in a building that doesn’t lift off the ground either.
However, that relief doesn’t even get close to the feeling when I finally lay eyes on my final destination.
When the driver finally stops the car, I’m quick to pay before I’m hauling myself and my bag out of the cab while thanking him over my shoulder. He drives off immediately, leaving me alone in front of the house I’m starting to think is empty.
The lights are all turned off and Harry’s car isn’t parked in its usual spot. He only ever parks it in the garage when he’s leaving LA.
A bit defeated, I take my keychain out of the outer pocket of my bag as I step up the few stairs leading to the front door. Finally, after fiddling with it for way too long, I find the right key.
Like I thought, the house is empty. There is no music playing anywhere. The TV is off and there is no sign of life as I drop my bag by the staircase.
Still, just the faint smell of him feels like a warm, much-needed hug.
Not wanting to spoil the surprise, but also wanting to know what he’s up to, I get my phone out of my back pocket and dial Harry’s number on my way up the stairs to the second floor.
He picks up before I’ve reached the top.
“Hi, love.”, Harry’s voice has a smile forming on my face within seconds.
I stop in my tracks, willing my heart to slow down again half convinced he’s able to hear it through the phone from how hard it’s beating. Even after all this time, just hearing his voice makes my stomach fill with butterflies. “Hi, baby. I only have a second. But i wanted to hear your voice. what are you up to?”
That’s a good lie, right?
“I’m on my way to the shop right now. I was craving grapes. Are you ok, though? You sound a little out of breath.”
“I just ran up the stairs.” Not a complete lie. “But anyways. I have to go again.”
“Already?”, he asks, his voice sounding sad.
“I’m sorry, my love.” I genuinely am. “But hey. We’ll see each other so soon, yeah? Can’t wait to see you.”
He hums, “One more week.”
After saying goodbye, I hang up, doing some quick calculations in my head that I do have time to shower the icky feeling of flying off me before he gets back home from the store if I’m fast.
Not wasting any time, I speed walk to our bedroom, making a beeline for Harry’s side of the closet so I can grab one of his hoodies. I settle on a pastel yellow one with a big kawaii drawing of a pug on the front before shuffling to grab a pair of grey sweatpants and some underwear from my own side of the closet.
Since I’m not entirely sure exactly how much time I have before Harry is going to be back home, I decide against music. I can’t let myself get carried away and take too long.
But before I strip out of my clothes and hop in the shower, I run downstairs, pull the cactus mug out of my bag and set it on top of the kitchen island next to the plain black one with a used tea bag that was already left there.
Just in case.
As much as I love our home in New York, it just hasn’t felt the same while he’s been away. The only mess in the apartment was made by me and me alone.
And I’m not gonna lie and say that I haven’t missed the way Harry always leaves a mess behind throughout the week. Whether that be a towel on the floor or a heap of clothes left slung over a chair. Or the way he would vow to get better at tidying up after himself every Sunday only to never follow through on it.
So seeing all the different products and stuff scattered all over the dark grey bathroom countertops brings me a sense of peace I didn’t know that I needed.
I make quick work of my shower, even turning the water off while washing my hair and body to force myself to be more efficient. But even with that, I wasn’t fast enough.
While in the process of pulling the soft hoodie over my head, my breath gets caught in my throat when I hear footsteps just outside the bathroom door.
They’re very quiet. Almost as if the person is trying to keep themselves from anyone hearing them. I wouldn’t even have caught them if it weren’t for the fact that I didn’t close the door all the way.
“Fuck.”, I curse, scrambling to loop my arms through the sleeves just as the door swings open fully to reveal a sight that has me torn between whether to laugh or cry from pure happiness.
Harry is holding a frying pan up in defence, clutching it with both hands as if his life depends on it. And I can’t decide whether he looks terrified or surprised.
I clear my throat, not even caring about the whole plan I had been ruined. “You just gonna stand there, Rapunzel?”
One second later and he’s dropped the frying pan, the sound of it clattering to the ground echoes around the bathroom. But I don’t get to even look at it for more than just a moment before I’m engulfed in one of the tightest hugs I’ve ever gotten.
Harry’s arms go around my waist, burying his face in my neck when I hug him back. I have to stand on my tippy toes to loop my arms around his neck, feeling my eyes start to well up with tears. It’s only now that I’m back in his arms, feeling his chest move with every breath he takes and the puffs of air fanning out over the soft skin of my neck with each exhale.
He’s so freaking warm too. Not just physically. But just the feel of being close enough to smell his cologne and the faint remnants of his body wash makes a warmth spread through my whole body. It’s like taking a sip of hot tea when you’re freezing cold. The heat slowly expanded from my heart to my fingertips.
It feels like home.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”, Harry mumbles, forcing a choked chuckle from me as I hug him tighter. “I can always go back to New York if you don’t want me here.”, I joke without meaning it one bit. You’d have to knock me out and drag me along the floor for me to leave.
Pulling back enough to look me in the eye, Harry takes my face in his hands, “If you even think about leaving me alone again, I’m going to follow you. And then when I’ve caught you. I’m gonna throw tomatoes at you.”
The more he speaks, the more he squishes my cheeks, making my words partly slurred which only makes it that much harder to keep a straight face. “What if I want you to throw tomatoes at me?”
He tilts his head to the side with a chuckle, dimples indenting his cheeks. His green eyes look like they’re sparkling from the way the light reflects in them and blush has painted his cheeks pink.
“You’re fucking impossible, you know.”, he breathes out with a laugh.
I run my fingers through his hair, getting distracted momentarily by how soft his curls are. “You still love me, right?”
Instead of answering me with words, Harry ducks down, pressing his lips against mine in a way that has me losing my breath as my eyelids fall shut.
The way he kisses me turns me into putty in his arms. Both from how gently his hands hold my face to how soft his lips are as he mumbles ‘I love you' against my lips between kisses until I’m giggling too much to kiss him back and he just starts peppering kisses all over my face.
I tug lightly on his hair to get pull his face back a bit when I hear a sniffle, frowning when I see his eyes watery with unshed tears. the tip of his nose is a bit red and his lips turned into a pout.
It’s when I ask him what’s wrong, a single tear starts rolling down his cheek quickly followed by another.
Harry blinks rapidly, looking up at the ceiling as he sniffles again but doesn’t tell me why he’s crying.
Wiping his tears away with my thumbs, I kiss his moist cheek tenderly, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Tell me what’s wrong, Angel.”
“I just missed you.”, Harry sniffles. “They’re happy tears though.”
“I missed you too.”, I admit. Whispering it to him as if I haven’t told him that I miss him every day we’ve been apart.
“Now really. How are you here, baby?”, Harry asks seriously, sliding his hands from my face down my neck. “I thought you couldn’t get away from work for another week.”
“Well.”, I start, already feeling my cheeks heat up, “Asking your boss very nicely with a drop of desperation seems to work wonders.”
Harry smirks, “Desperation huh?” Even his chest puffs in pride.
“I had to give you your belated birthday present.”, I explain to him, feeling giddy as I remember the genius purchase I made.
“My birthday is in February, love.”
I roll my eyes at him, grabbing his hand before dragging him with me. Careful to step over the pan he dropped.
“Where are we going?”, Harry asks. He still laces our fingers together, giving my hand a squeeze. It might as well have been my heart he had his hand wrapped around with the jump it made at the gesture.
“To get you your present.”
-
Credits:https://www.tumblr.com/foolforharrry/701022886818906112/cactus-mug-harry-styles-oneshot