Summary: Harry and Y/N are in an open relationship
Warnings: smut and angst
Word Count: 4444 words
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Harry arrived home the next day with his key jiggling in his hands and legs constricted by the tight black jeans he'd worn the night before. He definitely needed a new pair of pants that let his skin breathe. His hair was a dishevelled mess and bags coloured his under eyes a dark hue; a stark contrast from his otherwise pale skin. His mouth opened in a yawn as he unlocked the front door, palm meeting the cool feel of the knob and twisting it open while pushing the door open.
He spent the night at Mitch's house, having cancelled his supposed date with Chloe with respect to Y/N. It wasn't like he meant for her to find out, she did that on her own by stealing his phone from its position. It wasn't like he directed her to open and read the provocative messages sent between him and Chloe either. But Harry could understand where she was coming from after hours upon hours of contemplation and debate both from the voice in his head to his mouth running its own course, to Mitch's suggestive looks—which consisted of a pointed brow and wide eyes—and finally, Sarah's ability to knock some common sense into his thick head.
Of course, she was going to be upset. It didn't matter if they were in a normal relationship or if they were just friends—it hurts to be blown off by someone you care about and it pained Y/N even more that Harry was blunt about his plan on lying straight to her face whilst she babbled on like a fool about describing a perfect night on which they failed to unite for the past couple of weeks. Finally, Harry had wrapped his head around it between the time gap of when Y/N banished him from their home for the night until the morning when he awoke the next day in a small sofa that crumpled his long body brittle.
It was then that he realized how stupid he was for taking such a long time to figure out why she was upset when the answer was dangling right in front of his face. Maybe he was really that clueless and he actually didn't know what he did wrong, but a tiny echo in his head whispered otherwise.
He was afraid, it's been known. Harry knew that to a certain degree—he was fearful of admitting the truth to himself. Whenever a problem arises–even the tiniest ones–he headed straight to the endless list of numbers on his phone, not hesitating on tapping one out of the couple hundred and initiating sex right off the bad. In retrospect, it was actually pretty disgusting of him to do that, he admitted. It was an action that progressed into a habit and soon, he barely spared a thought for his lovely girlfriend.
Harry had an inkling feeling in his chest most of the time that Y/N would come to her senses and leave him for someone who didn't sleep with other women just because they could. They were still together after all, and even though she gave him her blessing to fool around, it didn't mean that she was absolutely okay with it. Plus, finding out that she was always loyal to him made him feel guilty since he jumped on the opportunity on the very first day they established the open relationship.
So, when Harry came home with flowers in his hand—which he settled on the table for a bit while he slipped off his shoes, and another time when he headed to the fridge and thirstily drank a glass of water—he was grateful to say that holding the stems of the bouquet warmed up to metacarpals of his fingers gripping the clear glass because not a second later did he hear the husky morning voice of a man who was certainly not Y/N.
"Oh hey, Harry," Shawn greeted casually, his eyes bright and puffy from sleep yet the slight smile on his face indicated that he had a great night. "Did you just get in?"
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