102; harry styles (hiatus)

0.7.

"Harry? How did you get my number?" I ask a little confused.

He avoids my question as he clears his throat, "How are you? Are you okay?"

I hold back a smile, feeling a weird sensation in my stomach. It's like a softly tingling.

"Harry, I swear to god, if you've called me just to know if I'm okay, I'm going to-" He interrupts me.

"What are you going to do? Because I'm calling just to know if you're okay."

Oh, god. He's the sweetest human I've ever met.

I sigh, "I'm fine, okay? You didn't need to worry." A yawn escapes from my mouth as I close my eyes, wanting to keep sleeping.

"Did I wake you up?" He asks and I can see his cheeky smile.

"No, I mean, yes but..." He lets out a chuckle as I smile, his laugh echoing in my head. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Uh... Wait. It's one am," My eyes widen as soon as I hear his answer.

"Fuck, I've been asleep the whole day."

"Lazy ass," He whispers, making me laugh. I can hear his soft breathing through the phone and I wonder if he can hear mine. "I..." He clears his throat. "What happened earlier? That man really was your father?"

"He... Yes, he is."

"But I thought he was nice?" I try to contain my laugh but I fail.

"He's nice when he wants to. He's an ass, most of the time." I explain.

"I don't understand... I thought you had a good relationship with him?" I can almost see the deep frown in his forehead.

I inhale, "My parents are divorced and my mom is married with another man. So, it's like I have two fathers. I have a good relationship with my stepfather and I consider him a dad, he's the one I told you about the other day. My biological father is... complicated."

"Mhm... I get it now." He replies, coughing.

"Why are you up so late?" I'm being curious now.

"Couldn't sleep..." He says and he suddenly sniffles.

"I think someone's getting sick," I warn him, listening to his breathing.

"I was thinking the same thing... Guess I'll have to call my mom to bring me soup." I smile widely at his words.

"I'll have to call my mom to bring me soup," I mock his accent, giggling.

"Or maybe you can bring me some since you love my accent so much?" He wonders, smirking - oh, I know he is smirking.

"You are such a child," I chuckle as I roll my eyes. "But I make the best soup and I'm also a good friend so, wait for me tomorrow, okay?"

He doesn't even reply to my question, "Nobody beats my mom's soup, I'm sorry."

He loves his mother so much and I can tell because he shows it every time he has the chance to, the thought makes me smile.

"Can't compete with your mom but you'll be surprised, Harry." I smirk. "Go to sleep. If you're sick, you need to rest," I suggest.

"Okay, mom" I roll my eyes, giggling. I feel like some teenager that's talking to his crush.

"Shut up and go to sleep." I mutter, grinning. "Oh god, I actually sound like a mother." He releases a chuckle.

"Goodnight, Lola." He says in a very calming tone.

I close my eyes, taking a breath and relaxing.