His Only Angel (Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

I was woken up less than an hour later by a hard knock on my door.

I answered the door, rubbing at my eyes and trying to see who was there without my glasses on. It was H.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"I couldn't sleep. Can I sleep in here?"

"Umm sure. That's fine."

I opened the door wider so he could come in, walking back over to the bed. I climbed in, pulling the comforter back over me.

"Can you turn out the light?"

He obliged and crawled in next to me, his arm wrapping around my waist. He nuzzled into me, his nose against the back of my neck. This felt so nice. I fell back asleep.

When I woke up in the morning, he was already awake, sitting on one of the chairs at the little table in the corner of my room. I watched him as he scratched at a pad of hotel paper. He looked deep in thought.

"You know, your rooms are always much nicer than mine. I don't know why you keep deciding to slum it with me."

"You're right, I should find a girl with a better room next time."

I threw one of the pillows from the bed at him, aiming for his head. He knocked it out of the way before it could hit him. He walked back over to the mattress, bringing the pad of paper with him. He sat cross-legged on his side of the bed, and I sat up to be level with him.

"Do you want to hear what I wrote?"

"Sure. What's it about?"

"Last night. Us. You."

"It was an angel

I really saw an angel.

Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see

That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me

I'll guess I'll be getting you stuck in between my teeth.

And there's nothing I can do about it.

Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door

I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor.

Couldn't take you home to mother in a shirt like that

But I think that's what I like about it.

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

I must admit I thought I'd like to make you mine.

As I went about my business through the warning signs

End up meeting in the doorway every single time

And there's nothing we can do about it"

I didn't know what to say.

He hadn't shown me anything he was working on up until now. I had always been spying on him or hearing it on accident. To have him sing it for me, only me, felt so intimate.

"Is that about... me?"

He laughed.

"Who else do you think I would be writing about?"

"I don't know."

I looked down at my feet.

"Oh, come on now.