We'll Never Go Out Of Style (harry styles imagines)

Fine Line

Inspired by the song 'Fine Line' from the album 'Fine Line'

The clock reads just past one in the morning when a key jingles in the lock, halting your pacing. You sit down in the armchair by the window, hugging a pillow to your chest. The lights are off, but you no longer need the light to know your way around his apartment. As the door opens, you see his silhouette outlined by the light from the hallway. He flicks on the light and mutters a curse, clutching his chest, when he sees you.

"Jesus, you scared the crap out of me!" He chuckles a little, but his face falls when you don't react.

"Where were you?" You ask, voice almost a whisper. Harry walks over to you, his boots too loud in the silent room.

"I was out with Niall and Louis, why?"

"Again?" You sigh, picking at the threads of the pillowcase.

"What's that supposed to mean? They're my friends, baby." He says, the agitation in his voice rising. He leans against the couch, looking at you with furrowed brows.

"And I'm your girlfriend," You mutter, copying his tone and pushing yourself up from the chair. You push past him into the bedroom, taking off your pants so you're left in one of his shirts and your underwear. He watches you silently, though the frustration in his eyes cannot be hidden.

"I spend time with you all the time, though. I don't get why it's such a big deal." Harry strips off his shirt, tossing it to the floor, and sits on the bed. You turn to him, feeling an inkling of anger rise up.

"Why do you say that like it's a bad thing?" You place a hand on your hip. "People who are in love tend to spend a lot of time together."

"Baby, I know-"

"No! Do you know how it feels to wake up after you've gone to work and go to sleep before you come home? Hm? It's like I never see you anymore." Harry stays silent, so you continue.

"Do you know how it feels to be all alone here at night, listening to the sounds of the rowdy neighbours getting drunk and being afraid they're going to make their way down the hall? No." Tears prick at your eyes but you blink them away, you're yelling now. "Do you know how it feels to sit on the couch, staring at the door waiting for you to come home safe? Or how, when you don't come home, how it feels to get into that bed without you or to leave a knife in the nightstand just in case?" The tears finally begin to fall, and you collapse to the floor. The impact rattles through your body as your knees hit the wooden floorboards. Harry is immediately beside you, cupping your face in his hands. He brushes your hair out of your face and presses a kiss to your brow. You try to shrug him off but he stays.

"I had no idea," he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. "I had no idea."

You say nothing, the sound of your crying and staggered breathing says enough.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Harry pulls you close, hugging you to him. You bury your face into his neck, breathing in his familiar scent of lavender and mint. You slowly trace the butterfly tattoo on his chest with your fingertips, not even having to look at it, you know exactly where it is. Harry picks you up and lays you down on the bed, then slips in beside you. He pulls the covers up so you're both covered, then pulls you in. He holds you until the sun rises, and when you wake, he is there. Sleeping soundly, with an arm wrapped around your torso.

You smile to yourself, knowing that the two of you are walking a fine line, but you're keeping each other balanced.