Basically the life I dream of having if I was lonely and needed Harry to give me love.
One-shots/imagines/blurbs about Harry Styles.
Y/N - Your name because you're the cutest
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synopsis: y/n struggles to concentrate and harry offers to help
word count: 6.6k
contains: reader has adhd, fluff, mentions of mental health, brief mention of medication, shy harry
a/n: i haven't written a soft girl sunday concept in a while and this was requested on wattpad quite some time ago. I personally do not have adhd but I've tried my best to research as much as i could in order to write this. if there's anything wrong or anything i need to change, pls let me know as I'm completely open to understanding and learning more !!!!! <333 I literally cannot remember the username of the person who requested this because wattpad got rid of private messaging </3 but i appreciate u so much and thank u for being so patient
. . .
Harry's eyes darted to the seat next to his as the professor stood in front of the class to begin the lecture. His notebook was open, his pen in hand already prepared to take notes on the current book they were studying for their literature class. He chewed the inside of his cheek, his left foot adorned by a high-top, black Converse shoe tapping against the floor.
His ears pricked when the door clicked open and his sunshine girl walked into the room, bringing the light in with her. "Hi," Y/N blushed, bowing her head down in hopes it would divert people's attention back to the professor and not to her tardiness, "Sorry I'm late,"
The professor didn't seem surprised but was no more impressed by her lateness. He shook his head and returned to his place in the presentation.
Harry stiffened as she slid into the seat beside him, catching the sweet smell of her perfume. It smelt exactly like the cinnamon latte he had that morning and the salted caramel ice cream he ate after dinner last night. All the sweet things he came across reminded him of her.
Her baby pink ballet flat accidentally hit against the tip of his beaten, old Converse. He inhaled, sensing her attention on him and finally looking at her face. "Hi Harry," She whispered, smiling. Her cheeks were still pink from how flustered she was walking into class. Her hair was in a messy braid, secured with a silk scrunchie on the end and she looked so cosy in the pink, knitted sweater and blue jeans she had decided to wear.
"Hey," Harry replied. He wouldn't often find himself replying to people in class - not that he spoke to many people anyway - but he'd always respond to Y/N, always.
Y/N grinned, pulling out her notebooks from her backpack and placing them on the desk. The corner of Harry's lips tugged upwards when he saw each of her notebooks labelled in pink sharpie pen with the names of her classes scribbled across them.
"Oh no," She huffed, "I left my literature notebook on my desk,"
Before she could even ask, Harry was already scrambling to tear out a few pages from the back of his notebook. "Here," Harry offers, sliding the paper to the side.
