Harry Styles Oneshots

Complicated

Harry's moved on and it's killing you to keep watching.

WC: 1.3k

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You shouldn't be surprised, not one bit. And yet, you can't help the slack in your jaw or the bewildered state in your eyes.

You blink. Once. Twice.

You're sure you've heard him right but part of you wonders if you've mistaken the news.

Yes, he's smitten with her. Completely and utterly head over heels, and this is Harry we're talking about, someone who very much believes in love at first sight and living in the moment.

He's just never done anything quite like this before. Sure, taking girls to meet his family after a week of dating, or buying them bank-breaking expensive jewellery before even getting out of the taking stage.

And there's been a time or two when he's very prematurely asked girls to move in with him in the first month or so of the relationship. But this? This takes it to a whole new level.

Harry is engaged.

You don't ignore the aching pang in your heart when you remind yourself what he's just announced. How can you? Nothing with Harry has ever come easy since you split a couple years back. Reason being that Harry rushed things too quickly and you wanted to take your time to grow and get to know each other.

Yet, hearing the news brings nothing but bile and jealousy to the brim of your throat. That should be you. Two years wouldn't be a bad time to propose to someone, not after being with them for 4 months and friends for two more years prior.

You could be living together by now, adoring that no doubt blinding ring. But you're not. Instead, you're bitter. Bitter that some random girl he's known for three months is engaged to the love of your life. Bitter that Harry can't seem to take his time and wait. Bitter that Harry couldn't wait for you to be ready.

"Wow."

It comes out as more of a petty whisper than anything else. And Harry notices. The gleam in his eyes turns from proud to sheepish and you hate you've made him feel that way.

You never meant to take his happiness away like that. You clear your throat, blinking away the selfish things you're feeling and mustering up the most convincing smile you possibly can.

"This is huge, H. Congratulations."

His shoulders seem to sag in relief just a little, and he turns just enough to face another friend in the group. Your heart can't stop the consistent pangs. It's a horrible thing to watch, to understand.

Harry is so desperate for love, to find it and keep it, that he blinds himself from common sense and functionality.

It hurts to know that he hasn't thought this through, or maybe it hurts more that there's a possibility he has.

Has he?

Has he thought about what this means? That not only will she have his last name but also his fortune, too? That this will be the woman he spends the rest of his life with, has he realised that? Is that what he wants?

What about Christmas' and New Years? How that'll be split between his family and hers. And what about children? Will they have any? Have they spoken about that? About starting a family?

Your lungs feel as though they're crushing in on themselves, or maybe like they're drowning in tears you're yet to cry. You can't breathe, not the more you think. The more you assume.

Why does Harry want all of this with her? Why couldn't he just wait a little longer to have it with you?

As he speaks with another, you make your quick escape to the kitchen, desperate for something stronger than the bottled water he offered when you arrived at his home. Though as you stare into the fridge, you can't see a damn thing.

Your vision is completely blurred by salty tears that threaten to spill over, you can barely make out the shape of the eggs that sit in the door of the refrigerator no matter how hard you try to focus.

Everything hurts and you're sure your knees are going to buckle at any given moment, and when you hear that voice - his voice, telling you there's white wine in the bottom drawer, you crumble.

Spinning on your heels, you face him.

There's an anger in your features, he can see it, sense it. A lump forms in Harry's throat as he takes your state in. He's not dumb, he knows it has everything to do with his recent news of engagement.

It's selfish, he knows, but Harry was hoping you'd be okay with it. That you wouldn't get upset and cry and ask all the questions he knows you're about to. He doesn't want to face it, but you don't exactly give him a choice.

"Four months? Four months and you propose?"

Harry swallows but doesn't say anything. He knows you need to speak, to get out what you need to say.

You take a step closer.

"Four months of knowing her and you propose?"

Silence.

It only makes your anger grow. You shake your head, arms flailing at your side.

"Do you know her? Or have you just jumped into this like every other time? Why are you so desperate to do these things so quickly, Harry? What if this doesn't work like everyone before?"

Harry has tears in his eyes and you can't figure out why. Are you upsetting him with the facts, or is it something else? Did he just not want to hear it?

"How do you do it, H?" your voice is much gentler this time, it catches him off guard.

Harry expects you to shout and scream, not huff and shrug in defeat after a few sentences, he knows you have so much more to say than that.

"Do what?" he finally croaks.

"How do you move on so fucking fast? How do you forget everything we had so quickly? How do you forget me?"

He waits a beat, staring at the tears that fall. Your skin is growing clammy, heart thumping against your ribcage.

Forget you? How could he ever?

"Why do you always have to rush into things? Why couldn't you have just waited for me?"

Harry doesn't know what to say, your final words knock him sideways.

"Wait for you?" he asks, brows pinched. "I thought we agreed we were better as friends?"

You scoff, head rolled back in disbelief.

"You wanted me to move in with you after three months, H. I wasn't ready for that. Then, you wanted to get me a goddamn promise ring. I wasn't ready for that, either. We were together for four months, Harry. I wanted to take my time with you, get to know you and enjoy the stages of what we were."

The confession sends ringing through Harry's ears. He remembers the conversation, where you told him things were moving too fast, that you thought you'd be better as friends.

He takes a deep breath.

"You couldn't have waited another few months to ask me to move in with you? You couldn't have waited a month or so after that to get me a promise ring? And a few more again to propose?"

That's when it hits him. You're not over Harry, you never were. And all the times since the breakup, that he's introduced new girls and milestones, you've sat there wondering why the hell he couldn't have just waited and had it all with you.

"Why couldn't you wait for me, Harry? Why wasn't I enough?"

He shakes his head, fast.

"You were never not enough, Y/N."

It's your turn to shake your head profusely and step back when he inches closer.

"If I was enough, you would've waited. And that ring would be on my finger, not some strangers."