Count on It (Harry Styles imagine)

So you’re a first year university student and you’re living in the residential dorms, enjoying a taste of freedom for the first time.

So you’re a first year university student and you’re standing in the doorway of your tiny dorm room as one Harry Styles rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and looks at you sheepishly.

“Ah fuck,” he mutters, in that low, gravelly voice of his, “I’ve got the wrong room, haven’t I?”

You shake your head, unsure where this is going. "Uhm, I think so."

He shrugs. “S’alright, I think I’d rather see you than those tossers anyways. I'm Harry, by the way.”

"I know who you are," you blurt out before you can help yourself. Blushing, you introduce yourself.

Harry grins, repeats your name slowly, as if it’s something to be treasured. Somehow it sounds better coming from his mouth. "Well hopefully you've only heard good things," he laughs, "And if not, I can somehow try to convince you with a Taco Bell run or promising not to put ice down your back."

You grin, feeling more at ease with each moment that passes. "I'll remember that," you say. “So what’s a big popstar like you doing in a place like this?” You ask, still slightly unable to believe that this is real, that this is happening, that you’ve apparently befriended Harry Styles.

He shrugs. “I’ve got a few mates who go here, so I thought I’d surprise ‘em.” He runs a hand through his curls absently. “I thought I remembered well enough where their room was, but I guess not.” He raises his palms in a “what can you do” motion and rolls his eyes.

“You should like, write down their room number or something.”

He pouts, green eyes blinking owlishly. “But where would the fun in that be?” He pauses, dimple flashing. “And besides, then I never would’ve met you.”

You can’t help but smile at his words, wonder how a boy like this even exists.

His phone buzzes in his hand, and he frowns, unlocking it quickly and skimming the message. “Oooh,” he groans. “They’re in 219, not 119. So close.”

You can’t help but laugh at the exasperated look on his face. “Looks like your surprise is spoiled.”

He frowns, seemingly defeated, before he perks up once more. “But they won’t be expecting silly string, now will they?”

You laugh, “if I hear screaming, I’ll know why.”

Harry wiggles his eyebrows back and forth excitedly. “They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

You chuckle, and half-wave as he sets down the corridor. “I’ll see you around.”

He turns around and winks, grinning. “Oh, you can count on it.”