HARRY STYLES - IMAGINES

Trouser-ripping Idiot, HS

10.2 mf k!!!!!! WhOT. thank you thank you! Short flooff bc we all need some o'that in our life. I haven't proofread it once. as always. sorry for being gone for so long, I wasn't really like...at my best. (Quote my mom: you look kinda gloomy since your birthday. thx MOM, now I feel better.  Kisses, ya gloomy gal nica  

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in the chair in the middle of the dressing room backstage. I didn't had to wait long until I heard nervous tripling steps approaching, accompanied by heavier steps (probably Mitch) and some that sounded like someone simply dragged their feet very ungraceful over the ground. That last one was Sarah, no one else walked like that. And that soft clicking...well that was Harry, and if I interpreted his hesitant approach correctly, he knew exactly what was about to happen. The door opened carefully and Harry softly slipped in, immediately spotting me. After a second of sheepish smirking, he cleared his throat and opened his arms as if to hug me. "Sweetheart!" he exclaimed, a crackle falling from his lips. "Harry." I answered, letting a hint of my annoyance slip through the emotionless manner I answered in. "Haven't I told you, just before you got on stage, that those particular trousers are a bit tighter this time?" his eyes dropped on the ground, a boyish smirk tugging on his lips. "Maybe?" he said, dragging the word long. "Hm. Thought so. Now, haven't I also asked you, to then tone down your leg-kicking and foot jolting for just this evening?" his smile deepened slightly, but he still wasn't meeting my eyes. "Perhaps..." he mumbled, crossing his arms behind his back. "Wonderful. So what have you done?" a chuckle broke out of him as he finally rose his gaze. "I've performed wonderfully, don't you think?" he said with a slight pout and I couldn't longer fight the small smile that appeared on my lips. "Yeah. However that was not my question." He slowly approached the chair I sat on, giving me big doe eyes. "I forgot, maybe." He mumbled softly, extending a hand to me. "That you bloody did." I huffed, taking his hand for him to pull me up. "So I may or may not have ended up ripping m'trousers..." "You mean your customized, several thousands of dollars' worth trousers? Those? The ones I specifically advised you not to tear to shreds because I don't have any time to mend them before we have to return them?" Harry's lips were curled up into a small, apologizing smile before he wrapped his arms around me carefully. "I am uhm, sorry?" I rolled my eyes. "You better be, Styles." I said with a small frown. Harry pouted even more at that sight. "Noo, please don't be mad at me now." He whined softly and I crossed my arms behind his neck. "Tell me why I shouldn't be mad now hm? I think I have a pretty legit reason to be so, since my boss has chosen not to listen to what I said and now caused me a sleepless night." He sighed and leaned his forehead against mine. "Boss and boyfriend, if I may add..." then he dipped down for a quick kiss. "I'll help ye?" I only laughed. "How? You can't sew, mend or embroider if your life depended on it." He snorted softly. "No need to rub it in 'kay? But I can stay awake with ye and uhm...entertain you. Tha's my job after all, to entertain people." I shook my head softly. "Nope Sir, you better get your sleep. We're on tour and you need to be at your top game. I can sleep through the rest of the day, if I'm that tired. After all, I'm used to not sleep a lot." He frowned worriedly. "Not healthy princess." I shrugged. "Says the right one. Now hand me those bloody trousers and go take a shower. You need one." He laughed softly before kissing me again. "Ye forgive me?" I shrugged softly, before I nodded slowly. "Not that I'd much of a choice..." he huffed, giving me a playful puff. "Hm yeah, shut y'cute mouth babygirl, we both know that ye can't be mad at me for long." I rose an eyebrow. "I don't see how you are in a position to be cocky now. Get. Cleaned. Up. Then come back and kiss me again because your bestest girlfriend of all times and ever will mend your trousers that you ruined during your show. Move!" he laughed before pecking my cheek and storming off. After all, he kinda was right, I couldn't stay mad at this trouser-ripping idiot. My trouser-ripping idiot, at least.