HARRY STYLES - IMAGINES

Ugly shirt HS

I hate this shirt and I love this shirt. Like for REAL Harry what the fuck was in the water and where can I get some. I am lacking looks, thank u next. Also, that's a short one. not much StoRY content wise, but it was fun writing it and I just am a bitch for cocky and embarrassed harry - Nica. 

"And I will absolutely murder you if you wear this on stage." I grumbled, giving Harry a dark look. "Oh yeah?" he mused, softly caressing the bright pink shirt that I had tossed on a chair in the corner of the dressing room. I refused to even look at it, I hated that thing so much. "but if you hate it so much...why do you have it with you?" Niall asked carefully, brushing his hair aside. „Because...I don't even know." I snapped irritated. The truth was, that it wasn't actually my shirt. It was the shirt of a dude I once had a massive crush on and he had just turned out to be extremely disappointing and nothing had resulted from this crush. Which was fine and I was actually glad that it hadn't, but the shirt...we had bought it together as it being the ugliest shirt we had ever seen in a store displayed and even though there were far worse...those big polka dots and the bright pink just did the job for me. Additional to that was its baggy cut, so that there was literally no way you could wear it and not look like an idiot. The shirt had then stayed at my place and somehow in my trunk, where I had found it in a side pocket, just yesterday. And after feeling annoyed by it, I had then decided to throw it away - and for that I had taken it to the dressing room because I knew that there was a huge bag with discarded clothing items that would get recycled. And now Harry had found it. Pretty much the second he'd spotted it, he had adamantly tried to persuade me into allowing him to wear it, very, very much to my dismay. Because besides it carrying a little bit of a bad memory with it, there was another reason why I didn't wanted him to wear it. And that reason was as simple as me being just too selfish about it. In my time working with the boys as the person that basically got them Stage or carpet ready, I learned that lovely Mr Styles could basically pull off every ugly shirt there was. Not only pull it off and look simply good in it, no, he then had this very rude tendency to look attractive in them. It annoyed me to no end and he knew it. He tended to just let his shirts buttoned down because he had once overheard a conversation between my colleague Ella and I about him wearing his shirts like this. Because of this conversation, he knew that it flustered me when he wore his shit like that and that I actually hated it. Baggy shirts barely clinging to the body...that wasn't how you dressed. That was just something. And this little, narcissistic shit just pulled it off and as said, it annoyed me. And now he had made a game of it, wearing the ugliest shirts buttoned down to the last few bloody buttons and then letting me do his hair. And I got flustered almost every single time when he stood there, towering me and staring down at me with a knowing smirk when I tried to get his curls or hair or whatever there was to fix done. And as much I despised it, he was so incredibly aggravating and just so...wonderful as a person (if he wasn't pissing me off). So yes...I might had developed a thing for him and that, that annoyed me the most. And if I would now give in to his plea that he could wear this ugly shirt, I would also accept, him effortlessly looking good in it and both of my hopeless crushes would have a history with that very shirt.

So no.

There was no way in hell I would let him wear this.

"Oh come on! Loosen up lovely!" Harry chanted teasingly, pulling the plain white shirt he'd (or I had) actually planned on wearing tonight, over his head and let it plop down on a chair. "It's one show!" he complained when I still refused to give him a single look. "I said no! This is the ugliest...can you please put on your bloody shirt again Harry?" I asked irritated, my eyes flitting over his exposed torso for just a second. I looked back up to his face and met a familiar cocky smirk. "Why even. Since you seem to enjoy yourself so much." I snorted angrily (and flustered) stomping over to him. "Do you know what you can do with your corny remarks, Styles?" I hissed, extending my hand for the shirt. He only laughed. "Why so tense today?" he said with a laugh, pulling me into his arms surprisingly. I yelped taken aback, not immediately closing my arms around him. "What's gotten you in such a foul mood?" Harry asked quietly, resting his chin on my head. I carefully wrapped my arms around him, sighing softly. "Nothing." I mumbled, slowing my eyes very carefully. His hugs were amazing...it was just a bit strange being pressed against his bare skin though. Not that I complained, of course not. He huffed disbelievingly, shaking his head. "Liar." I just shrugged. I would hardly be the one to explain him, that him being pretty and nice was something that I looked at as being attractive and now I caught feelings for him – which was the reason why I was just slightly stressed. "Oi mate, cuddling up to our dear moody blue?" Louis piped up from a couch on the other side of the room. "Finally manned up?" he continued to tease and I frowned. "Shut your mouth lad." Harry snapped back, giving him the finger. I chuckled muffled, softly starting to back off. "Guess I'm just having a bad day somehow. Can't shake that mood off somehow...sorry if I let it out on you occasionally." I explained, drawing my hands back from Harrys back. He nodded quickly, clearing his throat. "Would it lift your mood..." he then started slowly, suddenly seeming not all that confident anymore, "when if you would let me wear this shirt tonight, I'd take you out tomorrow?" his voice had become quieter at the end, barely ending as a shy whisper above my ear. My eyes widened immediately. "Are you fucking with me?" he was about to shake his head when Liam, who just entered the room, dropped his plastic cup. "What?" he yelled out, eyes snapping back and forth between Harry and me. "The two of you are fucking?" he repeated, a for me unreadable expression on his face. "In Harry's dreams maybe." Louis snorted from behind, giving his curly haired friend a shit-eating grin. "You are not being serious now..." Harry groaned, cheeks growing pinker every second. "So he hasn't asked her out yet?" Liam asked, pretending not to see me at all. "Nope." Niall remarked with a grin, taking a sip of his water bottle. "But I think we interrupted them. Sorry H, do go on?" I couldn't help but laugh out loud whilst Harry's face now matched with the shirt. "Minxes, all of you." they just grinned like idiots. "I can't deal with you guys right now." Harry sighed, tilting his head back and gulping heavily. I gave him a small grin before carefully grabbing his hand. "I think it would lift my mood." I stated quietly, catching a small smirk form on Harrys lips, even though he still looked up. At my words he slowly lowered his eyes again, nervous green orbs darting over my face, probably searching for evidence that I was now messing with him. But I wasn't. Of course I wasn't. "But let me warn you...you will look more than ugly in this darn...thing." He grinned softly, shrugging it off. "We will see about that."

The shirt itself stayed ugly, even with Harry wearing it. Harry however, looked like a god performing, long curls falling perfectly on his shoulders and contrasting the pink beautifully. Was I surprised that he pulled it off? Not exactly. Was I aware of his cocky demeanour the second he saw my slightly lingering gaze falling onto his butterfly tattoo before finding his eyes again? Absolutely. But was I okay with that? Well, since I would have a date with the man soon, I probably was. 

But still...that shirt was just so ugly. 

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