One Direction One Shots 2

Stay (Part 12) (Harry)

(Harry’s POV)

“Are you nervous?” I watched her through the doorway of the bathroom trying to apply her lipstick with a shaking hand. She huffed and clutched the sink, giving up momentarily to close her eyes and take a deep breath. I moved behind her and smoothed my hands down the curve of her. Her bright red dress fit her waist and trumpeted out at her hips to above her knee. The delicate lace sleeves hooked with a simple button at the base of her throat, leaving her décolletage bare. * She looked almost demure but the color proved differently. 

“It’d be easier if they didn’t hate me,” she conceded. Holding her hand over mine at her hip and leaning her head back on my shoulder. I pressed my lips to the back of her ear and nodded. I couldn’t defend the guys distaste for her anymore. Liam had proven that with his little chat he felt the need to have with her the last time I attempted to bring her out. She’d refused to come out with me since then but tonight couldn’t be avoided. She was covering the red carpet at the event we all were attending and she had to interview us. 

“If they never accept me, Harry—”

“Shh,” I kissed the curve of her neck where it met her shoulder and pulled my arms tighter around her. “The fact that you even care enough this time around that you want them to accept you is enough for me. If they can’t see passed what happened last time then that’s just petty and not our problem.” 

Reaching her hand back she grazed her nails down my jaw and pressed closer to me. Everyday I felt her shift a little more. Open up to me and let me further in. Her fears and insecurities melting away. The affection, the caring words and soft looks had never been there before but now she gave it openly. I wasn’t even sure I knew the sound of her laugh before but now I lived for the sound. Everyday we changed and grew. Everyday I believed she was in this more and more.

“You need to shave,” she tickled the sparse stubble with her nails then twisted in my arms to look me over. “And maybe get changed,” she scrutinized my appearance, still in my joggers and tee while she’d spent the last two hours scoring and buffing and shaving and polishing what I thought was already beautiful on it’s own. 

“Still have twenty minutes,” I teased. She hated how easy it was for me to get ready. Glaring at me, she ran her thumb over the hair above my lip.

“Get rid of your two facial hairs and put your pretty princess clothes on, Styles.” She kissed my cheek and pat my butt before walking around me to get her shoes from the closet. I leaned closer to the mirror to take inventory of my facial hair. I had far more than two and was embarrassed that I’d even checked to make sure of that. 

I shaved carefully as she buzzed around me, spraying perfume and fixing stray hairs back into her complicated twist at the back of her head. Always grazing her fingers on my back or running her hand down my side when she’d pass. I wasn’t sure when we’d gotten here. To this normalcy. Where we just fit into each others lives so effortlessly. When we’d gone from just wanting each other to existing with one another. This girl with her walls, each brick placed and cemented by someone else’s wrong doing towards her and carefully deconstructed somehow. Even I wasn’t sure how I’d managed to get passed it. I felt like I’d all but bled to get through to her. But I had and that’s all that mattered. It hurt to think the four people I considered closest to me couldn’t see that. I could only hope they’d treat her with some semblance of respect tonight.

After getting dressed I went downstairs to find her sitting at the kitchen table, her leg twitching while she nursed a glass of red wine and chewed the corner of her lip, spaced out on the shiny surface of my fridge. I fixed my cuffs and cleared my throat making her jump and blink, looking over at me and releasing her lip.