Events || Harry Styles

035

there are so many new readers!!! are y'all from tiktok recommendations??? if so can you send me the tiktok so I can cry to it 🥺

Also the "bitch, I'm
a mother!" sound is stuck in my head someone send help.

TW // panic attacks and emetophobia (pretty brief, but just wanted a lil warning out there)

December 5, 2015 (Same night)

Norah

"So, Harry, did you know that Norah still hasn't deactivated her fan account?"

Beside me, Harry tucked his face into my neck, and the breath of his laugh tickled my skin.

He was well aware that I no longer had a fan account. I'd deleted it long ago. Back when I first told him about the account, only a month or so after we'd met, I'd jokingly said he had nothing to worry about since my favorite band member was Liam.

I'd also mentioned it to him the day I deactivated the account. The action itself didn't make much of a difference anyways since I had been inactive before laying eyes on Harry in person at that yogurt shop. But I didn't want there to be any lingering thoughts about me breaking his trust or leaking any private information.

"If I remember correctly, I do recall Nor asking me, on your behalf, to follow your fan account." Harry winked.

Winter grinned triumphantly. "And I will forever cherish that follow, you pushover."

I tossed my head back and laughed. I loved how Winter could dish as well as she could serve.

"Hey, I had to impress a gorgeous gal."

My cheeks burned bright, and, in an attempt to hide atop of Harry's lap, I took a heavy gulp from my glass.

Winter raised her glass. "Touché, Styles. That was pretty smooth."

I really didn't want to linger on the topic of early on in our relationship. The primary reason being I had been dating Sam during that time period, and I didn't want to create any blurred lines.

"Winter, did you seriously think I didn't already delete my account?"

Harry kissed my shoulder as if silently letting me know that he was aware of my deliberate diversion of the subject.

"Of course I knew you deleted it." She waved me off. "I just thought it'd be a nice ice breaker."

"I have an excellent topic to discuss," Brandon spoke up. "Harry, do you mind explaining why Britain has a royal family? And why I'm oddly obsessed with them?"

Harry began graciously explaining to the group that the monarchy was more of a physical representation of national identity than anything else.

He softly traced circles against the side of my thigh, and combined with the wine, I was gradually being lulled into an exhaustive state. I felt warm, content—not just from the alcohol—and safe. It had everything to do with the man holding me.

Just today, he showed me that I could rely on him to be there when I needed him and that he would defend me without being high-handed about it. He embraced me in front of my friends while still giving them all of his attention...well most of his attention.

It was never a worry of mine that my friends wouldn't like Harry—beyond his celebrity status. They were the type to give any guy of mine a hard time, but Harry was simply a hard man to dislike. He was respectful and funny without sucking out all the energy in the room.

"Tired?" Harry hugged my waist a little tighter.

I blinked several times, snapping out of my thoughts. The conversation had shifted to football—the American type.