Harry Styles Imagines and Preferences

Bad Days

It had been an awful day. It wasn't really because of anything, but you'd just felt down and everything was pissing you off a little bit. Or, you know, a lot.

Harry had come home from an interview and you were cooking the two of you something for dinner, being rather quiet in comparison to how you normally were. Usually you'd just tell him what was bothering you, or what was on your mind, but since you didn't know exactly what was upsetting you; today would be different.

He walked into the kitchen, taking off his jumper and smiling softly at you. He moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and chuckling, "Look at you, slaving away in the kitchen." He whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.

You sighed and moved from his arms, making your way over to the fridge in search for some vegetables to add to the meal.

Harry furrowed his brow immediately, following you across the kitchen.

"Babe?" He asked, raising his brow, "What's up?"

You shrugged your shoulders and let out a sigh, moving back to the stove and turning a dial to start heating up a pot of water.

"Hey." He started, taking your wrist and pulling you over to him. He tilted your chin up and smiled softly, "Tell me what's wrong." He whispered before pressing a kiss to your lips.

All you could do was tear up in response to his words, "How did you know?"

"Because, nobody knows you baby, the way I do." He whispered, and you smiled, hanging your head as he wrapped you into a hug.