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Description - Harry is doing his interview on the Howard Stern show and you hate it just as much as he does

Today was a day that Harry had been dreading for months now.

Around 4 months ago Jeff had got a call from the producers of Howard Sterns show for Harry to be a guest on the show. Jeff had agreed, thinking that it would be really good for promotion of the new album. Little did he know that it was the one talk show that Harry tried to stay clear of.

Howard has a way with words that can get people to reveal things that they never thought they would. After watching his interviews on youtube to come to terms with why Harry wasn't a fan, you understood. Howard blatantly objectified women and sexualised men. No wonder Harry has had several anxiety attacks about going on it.

Compared to other celebrities that went on the show, Harry also was a singer. So he had to go through the interview before performing. Harry already became nervous enough when he was performing so the added nerves from the, brutal, interview will do no good for him.

When Jeff had told Harry about the show he had been in the recording studio, on a random Wednesday morning. As quickly as Jeff told Harry, Harry had left the building just as quickly. He didn't stop walking until he collapsed in your lap where you were sat on your shared couch. You didn't know what was wrong but you comforted him all the same, knowing he would talk when he was ready. His head laid in your lap for hours, you just scratching his head softly to keep him relaxed, until he had finally vented everything out to you.

You woke up on this particular, dreaded, morning with yourself wrapped up in Harrys embrace. He was in his black Calvin boxers and you were in pants and one of his oversized hoodies, since you got cold so easily. Your eyes were met, first, with Harrys angelic sleeping face. He looked so peaceful and relaxed, something you wished he was able to feel all the time.

You moved one of your hands to brush away a rogue curl from his forehead. His bedhead was impressive this morning, but probably nothing in comparison to yours. You weren't going to sit and pretend you were a beautiful sleeper - oh no - you were a drooler and a light snorer. You had been so self conscious about it at the start of your relationship with Harry, but he said it comforted him - whatever that meant.

"Hmm." Harry shuffled in your arms, clinging on to you a little tighter.

"Morning handsome." You teased, loving how he managed to look so perfect even with a crazy bedhead, sleep in his eyes and slight under eye bags.

"Morning gorgeous." He said back, following your theme of complimenting each other - even though you fully well knew you probably looked exactly like Princess Ana, from Frozen, when she woke up in that one scene.

"Shut up you." You playfully hit his chest giggling as you did so. If there was one thing you sucked at, it was taking compliments. Whether it was someone praising your baking or it was Harry cherishing your body, you were terrible at taking them. Harry found it adorable.

"Fuck!" Harry shouted after a minute of silence, stretching his arms out over his head and exposing his hairy armpits.

"What?" You laughed at him, pulling the sleeves over your hands and resting your head on to his chest.

"Got this bastard interview with Howard today." He groaned, rubbing his eyes roughly.

You swiftly lurch over his body and sit on top of him, resting your body down on to him. You place your hidden hands on either side of his head and hover above his face. He kept his arms above his head, flexing his almighty muscles.

"You'll be alright, H." You tried to reassure him, but you were struggling to convince yourself.

"I really won't. He's going to eat me alive." He let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes.

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