Harry Styles Oneshots

Escaped night tension

The air in Reykjavik was cold—crisp, biting at her skin as YN wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck. She had planned this trip for months. After her latest heartbreak, the stress of her job, and the feeling of being stuck in a life she couldn't seem to control, Iceland had seemed like the perfect place to reset. The idea of escaping to a place so far removed from the hustle and noise of her usual life had been her only solace in recent weeks.

But even as she stood there, feeling the rush of fresh air fill her lungs, YN couldn't shake the loneliness that clung to her. It wasn't just the breakup, or the overwhelming pressure of adult life. It was everything—the quiet desperation that crept in when she was alone with her thoughts. Maybe that's why she didn't expect much from the trip. Just the cold, the quiet, and maybe, just maybe, a few moments of peace.

The Northern Lights were her goal—their elusive glow something she had always dreamed of seeing in person. She'd spent weeks reading about them, imagining the magical way they would shimmer across the sky.

She turned a corner, heading toward the city's edge, where the lights would be best. But she wasn't alone.

There, standing near the edge of the icy street, was a man. He was tall, dressed in a dark wool coat, and the faintest hint of starlight caught the curls of his hair. There was something about him that made YN pause—something magnetic. He wasn't looking at her, but rather, up at the sky, where the faintest strip of light was beginning to break through the cloud cover.

For a brief moment, YN wondered if she should walk past him. But then, as though compelled by some invisible force, she found herself stopping beside him.

"Are you here for the lights?" she asked, her voice slightly shaky in the cold air.

The man turned toward her, his eyes a dark, soft brown that held a warmth she hadn't expected. He smiled—slow, easy—and it made her stomach flutter.

"I was just thinking how beautiful they look from here," he said, his voice rich with a soft British accent that sent a small thrill through her. "But you've got to get out of the city to really see them."

YN hesitated. There was something about the way he spoke—like he knew something she didn't. She glanced at the sky, where the northern lights were starting to spread, faint but mesmerizing.

"I'm hoping to get out there," she said, nodding toward the horizon. "But I didn't think it would be this clear tonight."

"Then you're lucky," he said, stepping a little closer. "Most nights, the sky's too cloudy."

The city around them seemed to fade away as they stood there, the northern lights growing more vibrant with every passing second. YN couldn't quite explain it, but the stranger beside her felt like someone she had always known.

"I'm Harry," he said, offering his hand.

YN shook it, feeling a jolt of electricity at the touch.

"YN," she replied, smiling despite herself.

The moments passed, stretching into something warm and familiar as they talked about the lights, about Iceland, about the strange beauty of being so far from home

Time Skip

The days that followed were a blur of chilly winds and incredible sights. YN and Harry had crossed paths again, more by chance than anything else. They shared walks along the frozen shoreline, dinners at quaint local cafes, and quiet moments in front of the crackling fires at their respective lodgings. She had learned that Harry was in Iceland for a little solitude, just as she was, though for entirely different reasons. He didn't talk much about his personal life, but YN felt the weight of something unspoken between them—an understanding that both of them were trying to outrun something.