HARRY STYLES - IMAGINES

Christmas-Goblin HS

Merry Christmas, for all those, who don't like/ or celebrate Christmas of whatever reason it might be, and to all those who do nonetheless. I wish you a wonderful night. All my love, Nica

A short knock interrupted the comfortable silence in my living room, making me frown slightly. It was almost nine o'clock, usually all the happy families would be celebrating Christmas around this time, singing all the same songs, unwrapping sinfully expensive presents and eating too sugary sweet cookies. No one was supposed to knock on my flat door, except if maybe they were already completely sozzled – at nine o'clock. With a sigh I untangled my feet from my favourite fuzzy blanket and carefully closed "Norwegian Wood", a book by Haruki Murakami, who was currently one of my favourite authors on this planet. "Just a second!" I yelled, struggling to pick up the bookmark that somehow managed it to fall from off my lap and slip under my couch. With a frustrated hiss I decided to just flip the book over and leave it by that. I wasn't expecting this to take more time than ten minutes, so I could live with my book not being treated like it should be. Through the spyhole I recognised a young man, mid-twenties maybe, green eyes and brown curls. I knew him well, he was my neighbour, Flat 3b. I was 3a, right next to him. Harry Styles moved in at around the same time as I did, which was why we had immediate contact from the beginning. Mainly because someone ran out of various foods or needed help with setting up a shelf or such. He was as friendly as he was handsome and he was incredibly nice. I liked him a lot, as a neighbour and especially as a friend. "Hi there! I am sorry for disturbing possible celebrations, but I am currently trying to bake cookies and I forgot that you need sugar. Sorta." He said with an embarrassed chuckle and I couldn't help but give him a smile. "Happens sometimes. Come in quickly, I don't know how much time I need to find sugar...I am not really organised." Harry gave me a thankful nod as I stepped aside to let him pass. "If I don't disturb anyone..." he said again, seemingly unaware of the fact that there was no one. "Disturb who? Minerva and me? Don't think so? Come on in." Harry opened his mouth but closed it immediately when his eyes fell on my cat, that curiously came strolling into the hallway. "You haven't coincidentally named your cat Minerva, have you?" I gave him a grin. "Well I have. You know because of..." "...Harry Potter, got it." He said with a light smirk, before following me into the open kitchen. "Hold on, does that mean you're alone with your cat on Christmas eve?" I shrugged, crouching down to a cupboard where I believed I stored an unopened pack of sugar. "Yeah so?" Harry threw me an outraged look, before his eyes scanned over my living room area. "And there is no Christmas tree, fairy tail lights, paper stars..." he mumbled unbelievingly, giving me a confused look. "Where is your Christmas spirit woman?" he asked, making me stop. "Left cupboard, next to the fridge." I instructed and he frowned, walking over to it. "Vodka?" I couldn't help but grin smugly. "Fuck yeah."He shook his head, a small smile tugging on his lips. "What's up with it though?" he then asked, watching me attentively. "With what?" I only replied, finally spotting the bag of sugar hidden behind all my spices. "Your ginchyness." I snorted, twirling around to him. "I don't know what you are talking about; I am spending a cosy evening reading, with a mug of tea and a very good book including a needy cat snuggled on my lap. I don't see how that's wrong." Harry scratched his neck, nose crunched. "Not at all, obviously. The only thing is, that it's well...Christmas you know?" I shrugged. "I'm not really into Christmas." He laughed softly, leaning against the fridge. "Well I see that. How comes?" I shrugged again, handing him the sugar. "Don't know. My family doesn't really celebrate Christmas, I never cared about it. I mean, even the most wholehearted chestnut-roasters cannot disagree that Christmas has become a consumerist feeding whirl. It's all about the money and money makes people cranky...i mean, I have seen people become ugly over the money they were spending on each other...fighting over presents and stuff. My aunt had worked in a retail store for a while and she always told such horrid stories about people literally fighting in the hallways...terrible." I rubbed my arms, peeking up at him, fearing that he'd get that judging look on his face like everyone when you told them how you disliked Christmas. But he still looked at me attentively, brows scrunched together, eagerly listening to my every word. "And I am annoyed that everyone is acting so holy. They all pretend that it's all for Jesus and so on...but you certainly don't see adverts reminding us that it is, after all, the thought that matters and not the product. Which is another thing about Christmas I don't really get: it actually makes people feel bad. Even in the midst of a large celebration, people often become downcast. Not everyone has large loving families, not everyone has that special someone in our lives, and not everyone can afford to lavish gifts and food on the people we do love. Christmas makes people miss the things they don't have, instead of celebrating the things they do. And lastly, the immense waste that comes with Christmas time...discarded gift-wrapping, wasted food, unwanted gifts, outmoded cards, and all the packaging that comes with the presents. Not to mention the ridiculous amount of power needed to keep Christmas lights burning through a whole month and longer. So yeah...I don't like Christmas." I finished, feeling embarrassed immediately. I shouldn't have started with it, jeez he must think I was a stuck up prick with no fun or love it my life. "I understand you." I eyebrows shot up. "Y'do?" Harry nodded slowly. "I do, yes. I feel like what you say, is very true. But there's one thing y'can never say anything against." A witty smile spread on his lips. "Three-ingredient sugar cookies. Well, four, if yeh count sprinkles." Despite the Christmas conversation dragging my mood down slightly, I laughed out loud. "Diabetes?" Harry huffed, shaking his head. "Nope, not even. And I will prove this to you! Three-ingredient cookies can save any day, believe me. Even Christmas." I gave him a lopsided grin and crossed my arms over my chest. "You think?" Harry nodded confidently. "Yep. Especially when ye'are that kind of idiot who forgot to go grocery shopping and has no food at home except butter, flour and pink sprinkles." I chuckled softly. "'Suppose you are that kind of idiot then, hm?" Harry smirked, giving me an innocent shrug. "Possibilities are, that I might be." I shook my head. "If you need anything more, don't be afraid to ask. I've got enough...now that you mentioned it, I haven't eaten yet. I could cook for you as well?" Harry's eyes lit up. "I'd love that. Let me just transfer my cookies into your kitchen. You make dinner, I make desert. Deal?" I nodded quickly, taking the sugar back. "The door's open."