Beneath the Oak Tree - harry

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by livewhilewetype

by livewhilewetype

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The campus quad was eerily quiet, the last traces of the sunset fading into a deep blue. You sat under the old oak tree, legs hugged to your chest, tears streaming silently down your face. The cold wind bit at your skin, but you didn’t move. You didn’t care. The words from earlier replayed in your mind like a broken record.

"It’s not you, it’s me."

The weight of it was unbearable. You had loved him—trusted him. And just like that, it was over.

You didn’t even notice the sound of footsteps approaching until a voice broke through the stillness.

"Hey," it was soft, tentative. "Are you alright?"

Looking up, you saw Harry Styles standing there, concern etched across his face. His usual playful smirk was nowhere in sight, replaced by something far gentler. He crouched down, meeting your tear-filled gaze.

"I’m fine," you lied, quickly wiping at your cheeks.

He raised an eyebrow. "You don’t look fine."

You let out a shaky laugh, the kind that wasn’t really funny. "Thanks for pointing that out."

He sat down beside you without asking, his shoulder brushing yours. "Want to talk about it?" he asked, voice low. "Or do you just need someone to sit with you?"

Your chest tightened. The vulnerability in his tone surprised you. Harry, the guy who always seemed so untouchable, suddenly felt approachable. Human.

"I got dumped," you whispered after a long pause. "It’s stupid, I know. I shouldn’t be this upset."

"Hey," he said firmly, turning to face you. "It’s not stupid. Heartbreak’s brutal. It’s like…" He paused, searching for the words. "It’s like someone ripped out a piece of you and didn’t bother to give it back."

You looked at him, surprised by the rawness in his voice. "You’ve been through it, huh?"

He nodded, a shadow crossing his face. "Yeah. A while back. Thought I’d never feel okay again." His lips quirked into a small smile. "But here I am, bothering you under a tree."

Despite everything, you laughed softly. "Lucky me."

"You are," he said, and for a second, his gaze lingered, warm and reassuring. "Because you’re stronger than you think. And whoever let you go? They’re the one missing out."

Your throat tightened, more tears threatening to spill. "I don’t feel strong. I feel… broken."

He reached out, hesitating before gently brushing a tear from your cheek. "You’re not broken. You’re just hurting. And that’s okay. But one day, you’ll wake up, and it won’t hurt as much. I promise."

You stared at him, the sincerity in his eyes making your heart ache in a different way. For the first time all evening, you felt seen—understood.

"Thank you," you whispered.

He nodded, leaning back against the tree. "Anytime." After a beat, he added, "Do you want me to walk you home? Or we can just sit here for a while."

You considered it, then rested your head against his shoulder. "Can we just sit? For a little bit?"

"Of course," he said, wrapping an arm around you protectively. "Take all the time you need."

And as the stars appeared one by one, the ache in your chest didn’t feel quite as unbearable. For the first time, you felt like maybe you weren’t so alone after all.