HARRY STYLES - IMAGINES

Meet me in the hallway HS

a story describing the vibe I get when I listen to "Meet me in the hallway" a song I love more than myself (which is not hard to do lol). BTW the next update will be a request, long awaited and too long in production. (I cant tell you when I upload next though, sry) I hope you like this one, tell me what you think of it and stuff. All the love, Nica xx

Harry woke up at the sound of chirping birds instead of the low humming of the traffic. He blinked a few times, confused about his whereabouts. The cream coloured ceiling over him wasn't his, as well as the dusty blue curtains weren't anything he'd picked...but looking at them closer, he realized that they matched not only the carpet, but also a little picture frame next to the table. They were pretty...but not his. Though he knew whose they were now. He also finally remembered where he was and why. Folding back the fluffy covers, he just slowly swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His eyes had now adjusted to the light conditions and he looked around once more. The light flooded room looked beautiful and homey, but he still wanted to leave as quick as possible. A deep sigh left his lips when he spotted the glass of water and the little, white and innocent looking pill next to it. Aspirin, probably. But there was no headache to cure, much to Harry's surprise. The bed creaked softly when he pushed himself up making him halt quickly. Harry had no idea what time it actually was, and I he didn't wanted to disturb anyone still sleeping...when in this moment he heard your pearly laugh from downstairs. His heart dropped and warmed up the same second and he froze. His eyes darted back to the glass of water you had placed onto the night stand, a green sticky note right next to it. "Drink up, sot!" Harry immediately recognised your scribbled writing, he would anywhere. As well as he would recognise the way you decorated the guest room in those cool colours, whites and simple furniture. And if he would come downstairs, he'd be familiar with the way you stood in the kitchen or living room, spinning around at his steps to shove him playfully for drinking a bit too much before hugging him. Then, like always, he'd bury his face affectionately in the crock of your neck, very carefully inhaling your scent. This honeyed, significant mixture of the sweet shampoo you used and the unaggressive smell of the perfume you used since forever, or so it seemed. And then he would come in, breaking the two of you apart, taking you away from Harry's arms. And Harry would regret once again, falling in love with you in the first place. 

You stood in the kitchen, carefully flipping a pancake when he entered the light flooded area. Your hair was tied up in a bun, still a bit wet and clinging to your head, but quickly dried baby curls already created a tiny halo of hair on your head. Harry found it adorable. And the fact that you were only dressed in a very much oversized shirt and a pair of shorts with very fuzzy socks that reached up to the middle of your shinbone was only increasing the adorableness. Harry twitched as he stopped himself from hugging you from behind like he would've wanted to. It was pathetic and he hated it. The sound of a shower turning on a floor above only reminded him of it once again. His situation started to drive him to despair and he felt his eyes become just slightly watery. He almost jumped when you suddenly turned around. "Harry! You're up...finally!" he mustered a quick smile, trying to get the hurt expression off his face – but he himself noticed how unauthentic it was. And you noticed it too, because you pulled your eyebrows slowly together, putting the spatula down. He had to leave, get away before you asked. The sooner the better, the lesser time he'd spend with you in this painfully domestic seeming situation, the less it hurt. And he had to learn to hiding his feelings so not even you could see right through him. I gotta get better in pretending. Way better, Harry repeated in his head, gulping harshly before looking at you hesitantly. "I – thank you for the bed and clothes...I think I should leave." You frown deepened. "Already? But we haven't had anything for breakfast and we always..." he cut you off quickly by backing off. "I know but..." you pouted disappointedly. "I already cooked Harry! What has gotten you into such a hurry?" Harry squirmed with discomfort, not meeting your eyes. "I just need some time today, you know?" he mumbled, trying to ignore your puzzled expression. "But why? I mean, I get it but it's so sudden...something happened at home? Is everything alright Harry?" you asked worried, pushing the pan off the stove before approaching him carefully. His eyes shot up to meet yours for a millisecond before they darted down again. "I am good. I am sorry...please don't be mad but I really need to go home." he stuttered a half-hearted excuse before already backing off towards the hallway. You followed him concerned, still majorly confused about his sudden behaviour. Was it because something happened yesterday? You couldn't remember anything though, it just went down like any other night out with your best friend. "Harry...are you sure you're okay?" he nodded a bit too quickly before stumbling over his own shoes as he struggled to get into his coat as quick as possible. "Sure. Don't uh, don't worry...thanks for the spare room." Your confusion grew with every second and when he turned around to the door without even trying to hug you goodbye, you reached out to him. "Since when is that a thing to thank for...Harry come on! What's bothering you?" your fingers gripped on the soft fabric of his coat, softly but determinedly pulling him back. He sighed, obeying wordlessly and turning back to you slowly. "It's nothing love." But you couldn't believe him. "I don't want to push you Harry, but..." he just gave you a small smile, trying to ease up the situation. "I'm good...I just don't want to bother you anymore. And also, I have a day in the studio ahead." He lied quickly. You snorted with a grin before carefully pulling him into your arms. Harry first froze for a second, but quickly returned the hug. "You know you never are a burden. You moron, if you were, I wouldn't have cooked for us! Who's going to eat that now?" he shrugged with a grin. "I'm pretty sure you will manage..." you just huffed. "I know! It's just not the same, you know." He chuckled. "Poor little thing...has to eat a stack of delicious pancakes herself without having to fight with me about the Marple syrup through the whole meal." He teased and you chuckled. "Right...but I don't want to hold you back. If you got to go to the studio, I am not the one to tell you no and you'd actually listen..." Harry rolled his eyes, "because you work too much and stuff..." he shove you off lovingly. "You're the only one close to succeeding love." You just shook your head with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Liar. Not even Anne can drag you out of that bloody boot. Now take care, don't overwork yourself. I'm serious Harry!" he nodded, his eyes just quickly flickered over your lips. They were so...close. But he wouldn't dare to kiss them...or would he? No, never. So Harry just innocently pressed a kiss to your cheek, or at least he planned to do so. But because you had decided to pull yourself up to do the same, he missed your lips by only a few millimetres, pressing a kiss just next to the corner of your lips. He froze for a moment, realising how painfully close he'd been to kiss you...but it just wasn't meant to be, even if you pulled yourself up on him and in one of those rom-coms, this would've probably lead to a real kiss. You had just briefly stopped, eyes widening as well and cheeks set aflame. In this second, heavy steps behind you made the two of you look up. "Everything alright?" a deep voice asked, still hoarse from just waking up. "Yes of course...morning babe." You immediately replied, letting go of Harry to walk over. You seemed to brush the almost-kiss situation off almost immediately, discarding it with no further thoughts. Unlike Harry, who would've been down to sit together and talk about it – but you never would. It wasn't important to you, it was just a slip, a mistake that hadn't even really happened. After all, it didn't and it wouldn't fluster you...because you weren't in love with Harry. There was no heartbeat to quicken for you when thinking about you kissing him, simply because you didn't wanted to kiss him. Kian wrapped an arm around your waist before dipping down and pressing a kiss on your lips. "Mornin' beautiful. You look good in my shirt." He added with a wink, making you giggle. Harry's heart clenched painfully as he tore his eyes off the two of you. He only wanted to leave as fast as possible. And he wanted to forget that feathery, ghostlike brush of your lips over his just to miss in the end. "I saw you made pancakes...Harry aren't you staying?" he snapped up, shaking his head quickly. "No. Thank you though." He said quietly, trying to sound more confident. You frowned again, damn well realising that something was up with him. "Alright let me just say goodbye properly..." you started, but Harry rose his hands. "No! I mean...that's okay. Go and enjoy your breakfast, I have already overstayed my welcome." Your jaw dropped slightly at his words, not believing what you heard. Since when was he so...weird? "But..." in this second Kian, who saw how uncomfortable Harry was, snaked and arm around your waist. "You heard him babe. Come on...let him leave." Harry gave you a quick, strange seeming smile, nodding slowly. You sighed before wrapping your arms around Kian. "If you say so...but you'd never overstay your welcome here! Now take care Harry!" he nodded with a light smile, watching you leave towards the kitchen with Kian at your side. Left alone in the hallway, he laid his head back before inhaling deeply. Then, with a quick move, he was at and through the door, rushing to his car, feeling tears prickling in his eyes again. 

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(not fkn proofread)