Labels || H.S. [#Wattys2020]

E I G H T Y - S E V E N

Harry had wanted to get to Reagan before Lydia could call her and tell her what he had done, but he figured he had a few hours at least. And besides, it was already late, he didn't want to go make a ruckus at Reagan's house when her father and mother were home. Her father already hated him, he didn't need to give him more reasons to do so. Also, he figured that if Reagan did find out before he could tell her, well that she would most likely hunt him down. So in reality there was no reason to go find her, she would come storming to him.

Although these were very logical reasons, he knew they were just excuses. He didn't want to go to Reagan because, well fuck, the moment was finally here. This was it. He was terrified of her saying no again. As much as he hated to admit it, he just couldn't muster up the courage to go to her.

Again, this was something completely new to him. Harry was always the charmer, always could get what he wanted when he wanted it. And yet with Reagan...Well with Reagan it's been something completely different. Of course, he loved it, he loved that there was no facade, no games. Or well, none of those typical games. But it's been something he didn't realize he'd been missing. And now that he had it, or rather almost had it, he was scared of losing it. He was scared of losing her.

And all of this he realized around 8:16 PM as he mindlessly flipped through things to watch on Netflix without finding anything of interest. He had tried writing, but nothing came out. He had already gotten all the words he needed to say onto paper, all the things Reagan needed to hear into song. So all he had to distract him was his shitty Netflix subscription he forgot he had and had signed up for only to watch an indie documentary that had been recommended to him in the first place—and that Niall was most likely leeching off of considering his viewing history.

Frustrated at the fact he had nothing to do (and that he was terrified of actually doing the thing he was supposed to) he switched off his TV, threw the remote on the couch, and figured he could use a shower. He peeled off his shirt, threw it on a chair in his dining room, and made his way to his favorite bathroom in the house. He hated the fact that there was more than one bathroom, but found solace in the fact that out of the three, the one in his bedroom was the best of all. Not that he spent much time at his house anyway.

For added measure Harry hooked up his phone to his iPod dock, ready to blast some music, but as he was about to put on his "Bath Time" Playlist his phone began to vibrate. His heart rate immediately shot up upon seeing Reagan's name upon the screen. But somehow he managed to compose himself and answered before it went to voicemail, "Hello?"

"Open your door! Now!"

Before he could say another word the call was disconnected. He didn't even have to ask, he knew that she knew. Of course she knew. She wouldn't be at his house at this hour if she didn't.

He sprinted bare footed to the door, disregarding the fact that he didn't have a shirt on and that his pants were unbuttoned.

It didn't take more than 30 seconds for him to reach the door and open it, but for Reagan it felt like an eternity. She didn't even know why she was there. She wasn't supposed to be there. She was furious at him, but at the same time she needed to know why in the hell he would do something like that. And if maybe she was the reason.

Harry though would never have pegged Reagan for anything other than beyond fucking furious when he saw her. He had never seen her that way, her eyes had darkened behind her glasses, her hair was slightly messy, her lips were pouted and the moment she had seen him shirtless she become completely flushed. She was in skin tight leggings and a baggy t-shirt for god's sake. She was quite possibly the single most attractive woman he had ever seen in his life. And the fact that she looked this incredibly sexy when she was angry?