HARRY STYLES INTERRACIAL IMAGINES.

Cold With Nowhere To Go.

okay guys, i actually really am proud of myself for this imagine. please leave feedback on what you think ❤️

he knocked on several doors, and rang doorbells.

it was winter, the sky was grey, and snow coated the once green ground, and the trees that had blossoms on them.

he was freezing, limping, and bruised.

he was homeless, and had been for 3 years. he got kicked out of his mums house for not being the stereotypical "perfect son" she had wanted.

the 8th door he knocked on, the last one, he decided if no one was going to answer, he would sleep in the cold.

he gently knocked, his knuckles hurting extremely bad.

but somehow, y/n still heard it.

she answered the door and was met with a deathly thin boy with dull eyes that were once vibrant. hair that was once tamed, but i had grown down to his shoulders, and looked dead.

"oh my god." she said at the sight in front of her, and immediately went into action.

she put her arm around the guys shoulders, and brought him into her cozy, heated home.

the boy was surrounded in heat, and could feel the burning from within, his cold cold body.

y/n wrapped him in a blanket, and sat him on the couch.

"what's your name? i'm y/n." she smiled.

he just stared, he wanted to say something so badly but his mouth didn't move.

y/n rushed to the kitchen to get a cup of water for the boy, he was dehydrated.

she speeded out of the kitchen, and wrapped the boys hands around the cup and put it up to his lips.

the boy slowly lifted up the cup, and once the water hit his tongue, he devoured it in seconds.

the boy finally spoke.

"thank y-you." he spoke, breaking down into tears.

"hey, it's okay. i got you now." y/n cooed, and rubbed his arm.

"come on, let's get you in a warm bath." she spoke softly, lifting up the boy and walking him up the stairs.

y/n ran the water, and put in one of her bath bombs, and added bubbles. she also put out some shampoo, and conditioner, and body wash that smelled like vanilla.

she got him a pair of boxer briefs, sweats, and a v-neck.

"can i undress you?" she said softly, letting him know with her tone she wasn't going to hurt him.

he slowly nodded.

she carefully lifted up his shirt, and held back her gasp at the sight of his body. it was bruised, black, purple and blue.

she slowly pulled down his torn and tattered pants and boxer briefs and helped him into the bath.

he relaxed at the hot water hitting his skin, and slowly leaned back into y/n's touch.

she tended to the cuts and bruises, and washed his body, being extra cautious.

when she got to his hair, she ran her fingers through the knots and tangles, and put some shampoo in.

she slowly massaged it into his scalp, and he felt tears on their way.

he couldn't believe someone had taken him into their home, and were helping him.

y/n knows what it feels like to be homeless, with nothing to eat, and being beaten.

she was abused by her father, and eventually her and her mother and younger sister were kicked out onto the streets. her mother sold drugs and sold her body in a attempt to find them a place to stay.

it worked, until her younger sister ran away and never came back.

and her mother died in a drug deal.

she stabled herself, and worked until she found a place to live on the nicer side of town.

she knows what it feels like, and wouldn't wish that on anyone else.

so she took him in.

y/n washed out the shampoo and did the same with the conditioner, and left the boy alone to get dressed while she prepared a meal.

homemade mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, homestyle french green beans and porkchops.

the boy slowly walked down the stairs and looked at the beautiful angel who saved him from nearly dying.

"my name is harry."

•a few months later•

harry is healthy, and lives with y/n.

they bonded and grew attached to each other and formed a relationship.

for once in harry's life, he was happy, healthy, and in love.

fin.