A Christmas Miracle
Hello my lovelies! It’s been a long while but I finally sat myself down to write something. I hope you guys like it and hopefully I haven’t gotten too shabby after my long break. Do let me know what you guys think, and send me some prompts or requests!
Summary: Harry can’t be home for Christmas.
"It’s not that big of a deal to me, H. Don’t even worry about it lovely,“ She mumbles, her mobile phone wedged between her right shoulder and her ear as she stirs up another pot of oatmeal on that cloudy Saturday morning.
"I feel terrible about it love,” He sighs, clearly disheartened at the mere thought of it. “I wish I could do something about it.. but you know how it is.”
She knows, of course she does. She knows that even at a time like this, building his career mattered far too much that everything else in his life had to take the backseat. Including her. And so, she wasn’t at all surprised when he called her up all the way from Los Angeles, two days before he was supposed to be home for the holidays, telling her that he was overbooked for all these goddamn telly shows and appearances during the Christmas weekend and wouldn’t make it back before the 27th.
“Actually, why don’t you come over to LA? I’ll get your flight arranged–” She stops him before he could get any further with his absurd suggestion. Christmas in the States when she was lucky enough to have been able to spend quality time with her family that she didn’t see nearly as much as she wanted to? She was almost certain that her boyfriend had gone insane from touring. “You’ve gone insane, H. I can’t do that and you know it. I’m just worried about your mum.. Really H? Leaving her alone when you know full well what’s happened this year has taken the biggest toll on her?”
“She has Gem and Michal with her, she’ll be alright sweets,” He attempts to reason with her, but she’s quick to dismiss his words. “Harry. We both know that’s not enough. You’re her son, for Christ’s sake! Have you even told her? Or Gem?"
There’s nothing but radio static on the line before he heaves what could possibly be the biggest sigh she’s ever heard, and she could almost see him slumped against his desk in his Hollywood home, defeated and on the brink of giving up. "I haven’t, love. I don’t know how to– How could I? Tell m’ mum that I chose my work over family?”
“Harry, I wish I could tell you that you made the right choice, but you and I both know that you didn’t, and you’re gonna have to stick it out alone. I can’t bear to see you run everything else you love to the ground while you’re out doing what you do best. I love you so much, H, but it really is time for you to start making your own decisions. You have a voice, please, for once, just use it for the person who loves you most,” She pleads, reaching to turn the gas off as she makes her way to the kitchen counter, resting on her forearms with her head bowed. “I’ll see you on the 27th. Talk soon.”
Harry knew he fucked up. He was a family man, and everyone knew that. He’s never missed spending the holidays at home, no matter how busy his schedule got. And now, the fact that he couldn’t be home with his loved ones when they needed him most, completely destroyed him. He knew Y/N was mad too, even if she seemed calm and collected. He knew she had too much frustration building within her from all the empty promises he made her that she could snap at any moment. She was his girl, and here he was letting her down time and time again. If the roles had been reversed, he wasn’t sure if he would even still be with her.
Y/N hadn’t heard from Harry in three days. They’d given each other the silent treatment before, but it only lasted a few hours. Coupled with the fact that they’d been apart for almost a month and wouldn’t be together on Christmas day, which Harry knew was one of her favourite holidays of the year, it only hurt more.
“I’m sorry Anne, I really tried,” She apologised profusely to Anne, sat on their living room floor with a mug of eggnog between their feet.
“Tried what, my dear?"
"Harry– Didn’t he tell you?"
"What does the bugger have to say to me this time?”
“Oh, dear,” Y/N mumbled, quickly taking a sip from her snowman mug that Harry bought her a few Christmases ago. “I really thought he would’ve had the decency to tell you himself sooner than now."
"My love, you’re scaring me! What is it?” Anne chuckles, her lips breaking into a nervous smile. “Let me guess– you’re pregnant! Oh my dear girl, you’re making me a grandmother?”
Y/N’s quick to deny anything of the sort, her hands reaching for Anne’s in a fit of laughter. “No, no! We’d need a Christmas miracle for that, I’m afraid. H is definitely far from being a father right now.”
“Oh thank God,” She laughs, leaning back against the edge of the sofa. “So, what is it?”
Y/N ponders over it for a bit. She knew he would do it at his own time and sure as hell wouldn’t want her to do it on his behalf. He was a good son, through and through, even with slip-ups like these. She just had to give him his space.
“Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m sure he’ll let you know when he’s ready."
christmas day: 12.41am
The dial tone rang for three counts. She chewed on the inside of her left cheek, watching as the snow fell gently under the dim yellow flicker of the lamps in their backyard. She knew it was still Christmas Eve where he was, but she wanted to be the first to wish him a Merry Christmas.
"Hey, sweets,” His voice lulled in her ear, and she was certain that it was one of the most beautiful sounds she would ever hear.
“Hi love. How’ve you been?”
“Cold, to say the least.”
“Isn’t it 80 degrees in California? Not so much of a white Christmas, I’ve heard,” She rolled her eyes, knowing only Harry would be wearing his ugly Christmas jumper in the Summer-reminiscent weather.
“I like to put the air-conditioning on full-blast, thank you very much,” He chuckles, toying with the car keys with gloved hands, almost shivering from the gust of wind that just blew past him. The click of the keys indicating that the car was locked sounded, and he quickly bolted towards the front door.
“Harry Styles not taking full advantage of the warm weather before he has to be engulfed by the disgustingly low temperatures back home? What a sin!” She’s mid-laugh before she hears the loud jingle of keys from the other side of the room.
“I’m still here love,” He lets out a breathy response, quickly shoving the key into its lock. *Perfect.*
“There’s someone at the door, call 911 if I start to scream, please."
Before she could say anything more, the front door creaks open and she’s standing there in the middle of their hall in his old Nike sweater and some woolly socks he sent her from Japan. She looked like an angel, illuminated by nothing but the soft glow of the fireplace crackling next to her.
“Merry Christmas, my love.”
Her mobile phone falls to the carpet, and she’s quick to run over to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and pressing her cheek to his chest, just close enough that she could hear the calm beating of his heart.
And suddenly, she lets out a scream– one of joy, relief, satisfaction– he’s standing right there with her on their doorstep, the snowflakes on his coat melting away onto his skin as he’s drowning in her warmth. His hands reach for her face, red from excitement, and he presses a long kiss onto her cherry lips.
"D'you still want me to call 911 for you, love?” He jokes, his fingers reaching to brush through her tangled strands of hair. “You taste like cinnamon, by the way. The whole house smells like it too.”
“Might’ve made some cinnamon rolls,” She giggles like she’s in school and her crush’s just gone and declared that he’s in love with her to all their six-year-old classmates all over again.
“Well, if you’d just let me get out of the cold, maybe I could steal one and proceed to compliment my girl’s phenomenal baking skills,” He backs her up into the living room, closing the door shut behind them. “That’s only if you didn’t burn them first.”