Art | Harry Styles

12

He's panicking.

"Harry, just breathe."

"Mum," he returns, inhaling shortly and then exhaling in the same way, "I can not."

"I don't understand what the big panic is for, Haz," his mum speaks calmly, as Harry lets out another dramatic groan and he sets his phone down onto the counter, bringing his face into his hands.

"It's Thanksgiving, Mum," he repeats as he has several times already, "maybe I should call Sophie and tell her I can't go-"

"Don't be silly," his mum coaxes him, "you'll regret it if you don't go. Just calm down."

"Easier said than done, Mum," he tells her with a defeated sigh, bringing his hands back over his face and tries to halt his nervous paces. 

"Right," she remains calm, "what - genuinely - are you so freaked out about?"

Harry exhales, biting his lip, "I don't know."

"Yes you do."

"Fine," he rolls his eyes, resting his chin in his hand. "I just think she's really nice."

"Mhm," his mum hums suspiciously, "keep going."

He sighs dramatically again, his lips twitching into a small smile as he answers, "she makes me feel so normal.. but also that it's okay not to be.." he trails off, clearing his throat in embarrassment, now, preventing himself from listing her many assets, "she's just a nice girl, Mum, that's all."

"Oh, she seems very nice, Harry," he can sense his mum's smile, and he chews on his lip.

"Am I supposed to get her a present?"

"For Thanksgiving? No, darling."

"Are you sure? What if she wants a present?" Panic begins to arise in his chest again, "Mum, I have to get her a present, she-"

"Harry," his mum cuts him off sharply, "calm down, you're starting to stress me out as well. You don't need to get her a present. Sort yourself out, and go and have a nice dinner."

"Okay, okay," he breathes, pinching his lip between his forefinger and thumb, "I have to go, or I'll be late. Dinner is in two hours."

"Okay, sweetheart. Please stay calm - it'll be fun," she sends him some final words of reassurance, and he nods a little too hastily, though she can't see him. As the call ends, he sets his phone down once more, only to receive another incoming call. 

"Hello?" his eyes widen a little at the unexpected call.

"Hey," Sophie's voice rings through the receiver. There's some shuffling in the background, before she speaks again, "just wanted to check you're not bailing on me for today."

"S'a little late, if I was," he muses, a small smile playing on his lips, "half past one." His demeanour is suddenly far more relaxed, and the nervous twitch of his lips has slowed - he's feeling good again. 

"Well, I was hoping that the later I left it, the less likely you were to cancel," she tells him, as Harry feels his grin widening. 

"I wouldn't cancel," he tells her, disregarding his panic from only moments ago. She doesn't need to know about his - minor - meltdown from a few minutes previous.

"I'm glad," she laughs lightly, "I know you're not meant to get here for a while, but - I'm kind of wasting away here, and you're pretty good company."

His cheeks go red with flattery, his teeth grazing over his lip as he bites back a grin, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she replies easily, "if you're not busy, of course."