His curtains were solid and black and the split of light running down the middle threw a yellow, hazy light on his face. Shadows fell across his sharp features, making his cheekbones distinctive and his collarbones prominent. His skin was unnaturally pale, and besides the dark moon-like shapes beneath his eyes the only splashes of colour to be seen on him were the violet bruises blushing his arms and the red nail marks that lined his thighs.
For precisely 8 hours he had slept this way, with a crisp white sheet tangled between his legs and around his waist, two thick arms wrapped around a pillow where his head lay, unruly chocolate curls a mess. It was the only time in his life when his mind was quiet and his life was peaceful.
Ruining the moment, his alarm clock next to the bed suddenly began to shriek and the bold letters read 06:00 am. Almost robotically, his green eyes snapped open. And so the day began.
He turned off the alarm clock.
He stood from his bed, stretched his arms out above him and walked straight into the shower.
Too-hot water fell on him, and using a flannel with soap he scrubbed his skin roughly until it was red and sore.
After 3 minutes exactly he dried himself off with a white towel. He put on his skin tight jeans, black of course, and an oversized sweater that seemed to almost drown him.
He made a coffee and drank it in 2 minutes.
He picked up his keys from the bowl, dropped them back in, then picked them back out again. (It was was routine).
Without looking back he left his flat and set off to work.
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ocd ● harry styles au
Fanfictionbut while she was falling for his oversized sweaters and polished leather boots, all harry wanted to do was tuck that strand of chocolate hair behind her ear and button her jacket. ©rrarity
