The Opening Act | Harry Styles

The boy with the short, curly hair always appeared in the campus library whenever I'm present. It's sort of a blessing to see him, though. Him in all his glory; his sweatshirts and beanies and skinny black jeans.

Whenever we got the chance, we snuck glances at each other, only to immediately look away with our faces beet red. Never once have we talked, but we both know we want to.

Until one day, he got the courage to accidentally bump into me, his cherry red lips trembling a bit as he spoke to apologize. His eyes showing nervousness.

Those were the lips that brought me joy; the eyes that made me lose control. He, himself made my life the best that it could be...