Harry Styles Imagines

#81 An Angel

Summary: A night of relaxing on the balcony leads to a very unexpected surprise from Harry, proving how caring he truly is.

AN ANGEL

Alone, the sky above us was a dark expanse. It was the lights from particular buildings that made it seem as if there was dusting of stars. Breathtaking would be one way to explain it. For the first time in the past week, I felt as if I could set everything aside and enjoy this moment for what it was; perfect. The temperature wasn't too hot, and the breeze was cool enough to feel good against my skin. The world itself screamed for us to take advantage of this time we had.

When I turn to look at Harry, sitting beside me on the balcony's sofa, his eyes are closed and the usual creases in his forehead had smoothened out. He hadn't been taken under by sleep just yet, though the rise and fall of his chest was steady. His hands were resting on his crotch, and his thumbs were circling around each other. His lack of response to me taking his hand tells me he was much to caught up in his head. I began to trace small patterns over his knuckles. One of them, I noticed, had a small scratch on it. He makes a fist when he feels me circling it.

"Did tha' this mornin' with a sticky note. It hurt more than you'd expect, tha's fo' sure," he chucked softly. "Still stings a bit too." He juts his lower lip outs, clearly bothered by the fact.

"Oh, sorry. Guess I won't torture you then." I run the pad of my index finger to the next knuckle over, which happens to be the one on his middle finger. "The last thing I want to do is make you cry," I teased lightheartedly. The corner of his lips twitched up, threatening to turn into a smile.

He eventually gives in to a full laugh, shoulders bobbing a bit. "S'fine. M'a man, I can take anythin'," he joked. I shook my head and smiled knowingly. Being able to stand a lot of things was cool, but invincibility was far fetched for even the biggest dreamer. Even he knew that.

For someone his age, he did happen have a high pain tolerance when referring to non-physical events, though. Having grown up by 16, there were things he learned the hard way. The industry attempted to pick and chose how viewers portrayed him, but he always managed to make his true light shine through. Even if that did cost him nights alone of crying. Low times like that are what shaped him into the stronger person he is today. He knows people will make assumptions regardless, so he tries to live a life that will make him happy.

I'd been a few seconds away from changing the subject to what my thoughts had been circulating on, but he beats me to it. "D'you like my hands, love?" he asked, tone lower. On his part, it was a real, possibly innocent question.

I feel my cheeks grow warmer. I actually did like his hands—very much. They're manly, but not too rugged or beaten up. They only tend to get rough whenever he decides to do work around the house. I've suggested times before that we hire a professional, but he argues that doing stuff for himself makes him feel more grounded as far as his status goes. My main concern is always that he'll end up hurting himself. I'm a firm believer that anyone can do anything when they try, but working as a contractor and being apart of the entertainment industry are two very different fields. Anyone could please an audience, but not everyone could fix a hole in the wall.

"You're hands are very nice," I admit. A smile grew across my face that I couldn't help. Trying to contain it would've only made it wider.

Before long, a dimpled smile had spread across his face too. "Do you like the way they make you feel?" He asked. My ears were quick to perk up and I briefly turned away. Instead of seeing a smirk when I looked back, his eyes seemed to be genuinely curious.

Before my answer came, the atomosphere was filled with the sound of the wind and a few distant sirens. There never came a time when things were completely silent in Los Angeles. That's one of the things I've loved ever since moving in with him. His house was secluded for the most part, but you could still see how alive the rest of the city was.  It was similar to a palace on top of a hill. We were the King and Queen.

"They make me feel a lot of ways, I guess. They're gentle with me most of the time. Then other times, you know," I trailed off. "But yes, they always make me feel good," I told him.

Harry's face broke into a cute grin. "S'that so?"

"Yep."

He pulled his hand from my lap and stood  to his full height, only a few good inches shorter than the glass door. Even after all these years the Packers hoodie he was wearing hung loosely on his frame. The black basketball shorts he'd paired with it were the same way. Nonetheless, he looked comfortable—as always when it's just us two. I preferred to see him like this instead of wearing expensive things. There was something about it that gave off a home-like vibe.

"Ma'am." He motioned for me to stand, which I followed rather hesitantly. "Don't look at me like tha', love. I don' plan on hurting you just yet," he teased with a smirk. I find myself oddly relaxing after hearing that.

"If you hurt me, I'm hurting you right back, sir," I countered without waiting a beat. "Try me."

His brow rose in surprise. "I believe you. But I wouldn't dare hurt you fo' real, y'know tha' right?"

"Because you're too scared to."

"Yes, actually. I would be terrified t'screw up and loose you somehow," he said. "I love you way too much for that. I promise."

Before I have the chance to say anything back, he's taking my face in his hands and connecting his lips to mine. His movements are slow and gentle; just the way I liked it. What seems like minutes is revealed to have been seconds when I'm pulled back to reality. My whole body was buzzing even after he'd pulled away.

"I have somethin' t'tell you. Do you remember tha' trip you've been talkin' about going on with your mum? Well, I got plane tickets with all expenses paid for guys to go," he told me in one calm, yet excited breath.

The feeling that hits me is strong. I'm not sure if it's shock or gratefulness. Maybe even a risky mix of the two. The tears that had welled in my eyes tipped over and run down my cheeks when he engulfed me into a tight hug. His cologne has never smelt better. He had no idea how much it all meant to me. My mom would definitely thank him profusely once I got around to telling her the news. This would be her first airplane ride since she was younger. Words would never be capable of explaining how amazing he is for doing something like this.

"Thank you so much. You didn't have to, my gosh Harry," I shakily sputtered. "You have me all crying now, thanks." I laugh into his shoulder before raising my head.

The smile on his face is bright enough to compete the sun itself. He almost looked as pleased as me. "You're welcome. You two deserve some time together. I know how long you've wanted this trip to happen," he explained, patting my back.

"You're an angel, I swear," I told him honestly. Because angels are the ones who do amazing things for you when you least expect it.

The night had definitely taken an unexpected turn, but it was for the better.

A/N

Sorry I've been MIA. Life hits sometimes and you realize you can't always get around to doing certain things (cough, writing). But I've been good, and hopefully you guys have as well. Ilsy! <3

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