imagines 1direction

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio


If she closes her eyes hard enough, and just at the right moments, Y/n can feel Harry in Dan.

It’s quite peculiar, how she finds Harry in almost anything. It’s something she finds so riveting yet so dangerous at the same time. He’s everywhere, he’s in every breath she takes and in every move she makes, and it’s something that brings her an overwhelming sense of comfort yet an overbearing sense of instability.

Dan—an individual full of insecurities and excitement—who varies oh, so differently from Harry, can feel like him if she really tries hard enough. His arms don’t hold her quite the same, and his lips aren’t as soft and flavorful, but if she squeezes her eyes shut, and she loses herself in the memories of Harry, it’s like he’s almost back again—only in the most minuscule of ways.

Which is why, now, in this moment in time, Y/n can barely keep her eyes open.

It’s the first time Y/n brought Dan to the house, letting him stop by to watch a film after his shift. It’s a little something he’s wanted to do for a while, and after many coffee dates and many pleads from Dan, she finally took the step of being completely alone with him.

Gabby decided to go to a friends house and insisted they take their time together. It started off wonderfully; a bottle of red wine, a box of chocolates, and a bag of popcorn while they watched Jaws.

It was all wonderful, until Dan decided to make the move.

Dan is on top of her, lips connecting to hers in a lustful motion. It isn’t that Y/n doesn’t want to be in this position, but more of her being hesitant to do so. She hasn’t kissed anybody since Harry, and although Dan is one of the nicest people she’s ever met, she can’t find it within herself to keep moving any more forward.

And everything about it feels wrong.

Between all the touching, all the kissing, all the feelings within her, she can’t stop thinking about Harry. She can’t stop thinking about how much she misses him and how much she wants him back. She’s still in love with him, so much so that doing this with someone else makes her feel dirty—makes her feel like she’s betraying him.

And it’s all too much, because no matter how hard she closes her eyes, no matter how hard she tries to feel him, he’s not there, and she can’t help but seem to think that he never will be—not anymore.

“No, no, stop.” She whimpers, shaking her head in an attempt to reject Dan’s restless lips.

He doesn’t stop, however, too engaged in the moment to really understand the words stuttering from her mouth. He continues kissing her, instead, moving down to her collarbones.

At this point, Y/n starts to hyperventilate. Between the sobs daring to escape her chest and the lack of air from her previous activities, everything is straining against her. She doesn’t fully understand how she was able to get this far without it being with Harry.

“Stop!”

Her arms push Dan off of her until she’s alone on the couch as he’s panting on the floor. She can’t breathe. Her chest is tightening and her cries are so harsh that her lungs are collapsing inside of her.

She reaches her hands up to the roots of her hair, pulling back on them as she tries to gather all the oxygen she can. At this point, her head feels light and her sight is completely blurred by the tears flowing out of them—ones that she doesn’t even try to stop.

“I’m s—so sor—ry.” She hiccups, her head falling to her hands.

Dan gulps as he tentatively stands from his spot on the floor, his hands up in front of him as if in a panic—trying desperately to figure out how to fix the mess being made in front of him.

He looks around the room, as if in search for something to guide him through this situation, but there’s nothing. All the room occupies is a broken woman, sobbing breathlessly on a couch in front of him, muttering incoherent phrases under her breath.

“Okay,” he huffs out, nodding his head to himself, “It’s okay, yeah? You’re okay?”

He occupies the empty spot next to her, hesitantly wrapping an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. In all honesty, Dan is complete shit at helping people during emotional breakdowns, and considering this one had happened so suddenly, he had absolutely no warning that he would be put in this position.

Y/n feels bad, she does, considering Dan doesn’t deserve the treatment she’s given him and surely doesn’t deserve what was once an innocent date to end up a complete disaster. But she can’t help it, and she can’t stop now, no matter how hard she tries.

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?”

His voice is nothing but a whisper, and the words that spoke out from his lips nearly brings every movement in Y/n’s body to a halt. She never told him that it was Harry who broke her heart, and to be honest, she doesn’t even find the strength within her to begin to question how he even knows of Harry—especially his relationship with her.

Of course, their relationship has been publicized for years, but Dan is a very closed-off type of person. He’s not much into music, either—another part of him that differs so drastically from Harry—and spends a majority of his time working or spending time outside rather than succumbing himself in social media.

He looks down at the rose ring wrapped around his pointer finger, twirling it around with the hand that was once wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders.

He knew the moment he saw Harry’s reaction that this ring very much belonged to him. He wasn’t quite sure why she sacrificed it so mindlessly—why it seemed to have no story behind it. But between everything Gabby’s told him and everything he’s gathered from her previous relationship, she wanted nothing more than to get rid of every reminder she had of him.

He doesn’t feel worthy enough for it, though. If Y/n and Harry don’t find their way back to each other, he feels she should at least give it to somebody that she loves, not somebody she needs to help her get over her heartbreak.

He slides it off his finger, placing it gently on the palm of his hand before closing his fingers into a fist.

“We can’t keep doing this, Y/n. Not if you can’t talk to me.” He mutters softly, “Not if you’re still in love with him, we’ll be getting nowhere.”

This makes her cry harder. She still doesn’t have the audacity to look up at him, no, how could she? After everything she’s done?

This is why she always ends up alone. No matter how in love she is, no matter how much effort she puts into a relationship, they always end up leaving her. It’s happened long before Harry, and she was so convinced he’d stay when he came around. She was so dead set on him being her forever, but the same thing happened again. He left, just like everyone else.

And now, Dan is leaving her, and although she can’t exactly blame him for doing so, it’s another wound to her heart—it’s another pain in her chest that only seems to increase with pain.

He sighs sadly at the sight in front of him, upset with himself that he’s probably a partial reason for her soul-shaking sobs and lack of air, but he has no other choice. If he stays with her, he’d be forcing her to love someone she doesn’t. He has to let her go if it means to possibly make amends with her happiness again.

He takes one of her shaking hands away from her face and bringing it towards his lap, spreading her fingers away from her palm so that he can set the ring softly against it.

She sobs at the sight, bringing her opposite hand to her mouth as she tries to quiet herself down.

“This was Harry’s, it always was. This belongs to you, Y/n, not me.”

She nods, trying her best to smile at him as a form of appreciation, but it fails miserably. He understands, though, that she cares, and doesn’t ask her any questions.

“I’ll let Gabby know to come home now, okay?”

He kisses the top of her head, the way he always does, before removing himself from the couch and toward the front door.

“Take care of yourself, Y/n. I mean it.”

And then, he’s gone, leaving Y/n alone in an empty house and her haunting thoughts. She feels the world is closing in on her, only giving her a restricted amount of air and a limited amount of light to see what’s in front of her.

She’s alone—she’s left by herself in a dark room that’s only being illuminated by the television light, where nobody can hear her, where nobody can touch her, where nobody can see her; in a place where she just can’t trust herself.

She’s left alone, as she’s always left, and she just can’t take it anymore.

Her emotions become so strong that her body collapses onto the floor, her head throbbing and throat burning from all the tears and cries. She can’t breathe, her lungs failing to take in oxygen and her chest is pounding.

It’s so bad that if Gabby doesn’t come home soon, she actually believes she’s going to die. She feels the tug on her heart and feels how hard it is for it to do its job properly—she practically feels it overworking itself.

“Oh, God.”

Gabby finds her on the floor, making her immediately drop her purse and run to her collapsed body. Y/n is a withering mess underneath her, completely drenched in sweat as violent sobs erupt from her body.

She’s quick to sit her up properly onto the floor before lifting her back onto the couch, running a comforting hand down the side of her neck as she begins to shush her down to a calm state. However, her attempt falters when Y/n shakes her head to remove Gabby’s touch from her neck.

“I can’t—I can’t—“

She tries to find words to explain what’s happening to her right now. Between the pain in her body and the feeling in her head, her brain is scrambling with so many fearful thoughts that the only thing she can truly comprehend is being saved from this horrifying feeling.

“Hospital.”

Gabby is taken aback when she says it, completely astonished by just how serious this all is. She realizes this isn’t a situation that she can fix on her own, and it makes her feel like such a bad friend that she can’t give her what she needs.

Tears fall from her eyes in panic, well aware that her friend is undergoing something far worse than a mental breakdown, but also knows that the hospital won’t be able to help her.

Only Harry can.

“Let me call for help, okay?“ She asks softly. “I’m gonna send help.”

When Harry sees Gabby’s contact light up his phone, something inside of him instantly fills with worry. He knows, without a doubt, that Gabby hates him more than anybody ever since what happened. And knowing her so well, she would never reach out to him, especially when her negative feelings toward him were so strong, unless it’s serious.

“Gabby?”

“You have to do something, Harry.” She cries through the phone, peaking over her shoulder to look over Y/n from her location in the kitchen.

She’s still a mess, holding her hand over her heart as if it were going to mend the pain. Her head is thrown over the back of the couch, her other hand running over her face continuously. Her sobs haven’t settled, only seeming to increase with panic over the unfamiliar reaction occurring over her body.

“She thinks you don’t want her and—Harry she thinks she’s dying. Her heart is so broken. She keeps saying her heart is going to fail her and I don’t—I don’t know what to do. I don’t think there’s anything I can do. She—she was trying so hard. Harry, please, you have to—you have to—“

Harry leans on his elbows over the kitchen counter, huffing out a shaky breath when he hears both Gabby and Y/n’s cries through the phone. He rubs his hand over his face, doing anything to prevent the tears nearly pooling out from his eyes.

He’d be lying if he said that guilt isn’t eating him alive in this moment. And it’s not that he hasn’t felt any remorse or any guilt since he’d broken Y/n’s heart, but he’s now fully aware that he has to look at the damage he’s done. He’ll have to witness all the pain, all the heartbreak he’s put her through, and nothing makes him feel worse.

“I’ll do anything.” He whimpers. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I promise, I won’t keep doing this to her, you have to believe me. Just—“ he lets out a broken breath, reaching his hand up to rub his eyes to prevent any tears from escaping, “just tell me what to do.”

Gabby wipes the tears from her cheeks, yet again peering over to watch over Y/n on the couch. To her dismay, there is absolutely no improvement.

“Come here, pick her up, and bring her home. Just talk to her, please. Nothing makes her feel worse than believing you don’t want her anymore. Hell, even if you don’t—I don’t know with you anymore—just give her something. You’re the only one that can fix this.”

He sighs, nodding his head before making his way out of his house without much of a response to her. He’s only concerned for Y/n, and is so focused on getting to her so that he can prove to her that he’s changed—that he’s not the same Harry he was and is going to be there for her for as long as his life lasts, even if she doesn’t allow it.

But it’s upon arrival he realizes how much more serious this is than he thought. She’s completely breaking down, every inch of her shaking and fear written on her face. She’s a complete and utter mess, a completely wrecked version of such a beautiful, unbroken woman who had so much love in her heart and surrounded by so much love in the air.

And even though Harry knows she believes she’s going to die, apart of him believes she’s already dead. The life inside of her has burned out and is now just a product of what once was. The Y/n he always known is long gone—so far gone he almost doesn’t believe it’s her.

He looks at her with the most distraught and sympathetic look Gabby has ever seen. She has never seen so much guilt in somebody before that—no matter how much she hates him—she can’t help but feel sorry for him, too.

“Baby, hey. Hey now, it’s alright.” He whispers, kneeling in front of Y/n’s shaking figure and tentatively reaching for her hair so that he can attempt to calm her down. “I’m here now, I’m right here.”

A pitiful sound leaves her lips when she looks up at him; something between a whine, a sob, and a groan. It’s messy from her throat being raw from all the screaming and cries, and it leaves an indescribable pain that only makes her cries stronger.

She can’t even think properly, everything in her body overworking itself. It’s something she’s never experienced before, and all the fears of it being permanent rush through her veins—leaving her with an overwhelming amount of anxiety.

“She’s having a panic attack.” Harry mumbles to Gabby, making sure to rub gently over the back of Y/n’s neck. Although panic attacks weren’t common for her, whenever she was overwhelmed and stressed, this gesture always seemed calmed her down.

“I don’t know what to do. I can’t drive with her like this I—Gabby, how do I focus with her like this?” He cries, the situation in front of him making his body turn to shambles, “Especially when it’s my fault? How do I—do I keep her here until she’s calm? I don’t—I don’t know—”

Gabby shakes her head, reaching her hand over to graze his tense shoulder. She squeezes the muscle softly, almost as a sort of reassurance.

“She needs home, Harry—” she whispers, “she needs you.

He nods, choking back sobs as he brushes the hair out of Y/n’s face. The skin of her face is red and completely soaked, but this is the first time he’s seen her since the morning in the grocery store, and she’s never looked so beautiful.

“I’m going to take you home with me, Y/n. But I need you to breathe for me, can you do that?” He asks, holding her face delicately between his hands, “Breathe with me.”

Y/n sucks in a deep breath when Harry inhales deeply, attempting to rid all the anxiety and pain settling inside of her. Her inhale is broken between hiccups and cries, but as she keeps eye contact with him as she tries to calm down, a little part of her feels revived.

“It hurts.” She whimpers between sobs, referring to the pain in her chest and the throbbing in her head that just can’t seem to heal.

She watches as Harry’s face scrunches with an agonizing cry, and she knows he’s aware of exactly what she’s talking about. She’s been brokenhearted for so long, she doesn’t even think he’s the least bit shocked when she tells him her heart is hurting.

“I know, baby. I know.” He whispers as he kisses her forehead gently. “Let’s get you home, yeah? Make you feel better?”

And as much as she wants to hate him, or yell at him for everything he’s done to her and make him understand just how much of her life he’s ruined, she genuinely feels like her body is going to collapse at any given moment. She needs him, even if it’s just for right now, she has to just focus on everything happening in the now. Harry’s come back to her and she’s about to go back home.

Because if she doesn’t think about the present moment—Harry holding her, Harry kissing her, Harry about to take the both of them back to their house—she’ll never find a way to fix herself. She’ll be stuck in this anxiety and pain for far too long—so long that it could actually kill her.

So she closes her eyes, only focusing on his touch and his breath fanning over her wet face. She forgets the t-shirt, she forgets all the times he’s ignored her after declaring them to take a break, and she forgets about Jessica. At least for right now, she can focus on all that tomorrow.

She nods, and it’s then Harry notices how much more calm she is. Although she’s still crying and still incapable of speaking much from the aching in her throat, she’s breathing properly again and her once undying sobs have turned into soft whimpers.

He leans in so that he can properly wrap his arms around her, hooking one hand on her back and the other under her knees. There’s no way in hell she’s capable of walking—not like this, and in all honesty, he would much rather hold her now than leave her side for another second.

It’s when Y/n is being held so close to him again that the aching in her chest seems to almost vanish completely. And although there is still a weight on top of her lungs, and still a slight uncomfortableness in her heart, she’s finally able to breathe again.

“I’m gonna make this all better, okay? I promise you, gonna fix you.” He mumbles with his lips against her hairline, making sure to keep rubbing the back of her neck softly.

It’s a promise he intends on keeping—a promise he never plans on breaking again. He could never live with himself if he were to keep putting her through all of this pain. She’s the most undeserving person—he knows that—and he knows she’s too pure to go through all that she’s been through the past couple of months.

The car ride is completely silent, only Y/n’s cries and small sniffles filling the empty space. Although she still isn’t completely calm, she’s improved so much since he first came to pick her up and it is able to keep his mind at ease. At least while he drives.

And he doesn’t miss her hand sneaking over the console to intertwine her fingers with his. He doesn’t expect it but he also doesn’t mind it. If anything, it makes him feel better just as much as it does her.

When they pull up to the driveway of their once shared house, every bit of composure she’s withheld in her body is breaking down by the second. Her strength is wearing thin, and knowing she’ll be reuniting in the house where Y/n and Harry once had everything makes her more afraid than ever.

Harry notices her sudden shift in mood and doesn’t hesitate to unbuckle himself from his seat and walk around the car to where her exhausted figure is sobbing, slumped against the passenger seat. He sighs meekly before unbuckling her, as well, and lifting her against him the way he had before.

“Hey there, s’alright, I’m here. We’ll work this out, but you need to sleep first, yeah? Looking very pale and I know you well enough to see you’ve been lacking sleep.”

Although they both know Y/n isn’t going to respond, she wants to continue listening to him speak. It’s something she hasn’t heard in so long, and she wouldn’t even care if he was talking about the goddamn weather, she just wants to hear him again.

He keeps talking, too, because he notices the effects of his voice on her anxiety and how the muscles in her body relax under his words. He’ll stop at nothing to make sure she’s okay again, even if it means having a one-sided conversation.

“You know how you are, too—grumpy and sensitive when you’re tired. Almost take my head off if you don’t get more than seven hours. Remember that one time at my mum’s Christmas dinner party? Barely slept the night before from wrapping so many gifts that you genuinely got upset with me for not knowing your favorite alcoholic beverage.” He chuckles softly. “Funny lil thing.“

Through the nonstop crying and the frown that hasn’t left Y/n’s lips in what feels like an eternity, the first smile stretches from her lips. It’s the smallest closed mouth smile he’s ever seen, but it’s there, and it’s the most genuine feeling of happiness she’s had in so long.

When Harry unlocks the door, he wastes no time making his way over to their couch. He knows very well that she wouldn’t want to sleep on their bed, considering she’s well aware of what he did with Jessica on that bed and he wants no reason to upset her any further.

He sets her down in front of the couch, petting the top of her head softly before gathering a blanket and a pillow for her to sleep on.

He sets it up like a bed, almost, before turning to leave so that she can have her privacy. He doesn’t think she’d want to sleep with him, so he decides to sleep in the guest bedroom since he knows she’d always pick the living room couch over that room.

But before he gets too far, Y/n weakly captures his fingers in hers, pulling him back towards her.

His head snaps down to her finger, noticing the rose ring being worn beautifully on her middle finger. He almost chokes when he sees it on her, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in half confusion and half in awe.

“Please,” she whimpers, “stay.”

He snaps out of his trance at her words, slowly nodding his head as a small “of course” falls from his lips.

He lays comfortably on the couch, looking up at her when he finds a position where she can lay beside him.

“If you want you can take the—alright” he huffs.

His eyes narrow as he watches her lay on top of him—fully on top of him; her cheek nesting right where his shoulder meets his neck as her arms slither around his sides until her hands meet under his back. Her legs tangle perfectly in between his, and in any other circumstance, this probably wouldn’t have been an ideal sleeping position for the either of them. But Y/n is exhausted, both physically and mentally, and she feels this is the only position she can sleep.

Harry doesn’t mind, and easily ignores the subtle uncomfortableness in his back as he wraps his arms securely around her frame.

Although Y/n is already fast asleep on top of it, he’s unsure how he can close his eyes for longer than a blink. This could be the last chance he has to be with her in this way. He’s unsure what tomorrow holds for the both of them and their relationship—it could end entirely or create an entirely new beginning.

With the possibilities almost endless against their favor, he doesn’t want to miss a second of what could be the last of her in his life. So, he embraces the feeling of her tight hold, the little puddle of drool on the shoulder of his t-shirt, and the tickle on his chin from her loose strands of hair, because this could be the last time he feels all of that.

But he also can’t help but feel that small bit of hope still latching onto him. That somewhere—deep down—he knows they belong to each other for the rest of their lives. And that, maybe, if the universe decides that their relationship should end tomorrow, he knows destiny will find a way for the both of them again.

So, he holds her a little tighter, breathes her in a little harsher, and soaks up all the extra warmth in her body, and prays that everything will be okay.

I NEED ONE DIRECTION TO BE BACK TOGETHER! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT WAS WAKE UP AT 7 AM ON A HOT SUMMER DAY WITH THE AC ON TO WATCH ELLEN ON ONE CHANNEL TO CATCH NIALL, WATCH LATE LATE SHOW ON ANOTHER CHANNEL TO CATCH HARRY, AND LISTEN TO THE RADIO TO WAIT FOR LIAM’S GUESTING?!

I need to lie down.

Originally posted by suitelikechocolate

it’s been two years since my OTRA show which means it’s been

Fireworks - H.S.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I mumble. The twinkling lights are mesmerizing and I just can’t seem to focus on anyone else, not even the amazing man beside me that brought me here tonight. When Harry only hums a response, I take my gaze off the fireworks ahead of me and stare at his sharp jawline.

Lately Harry had been acting differently. At first I noticed little things, like him closing off and disappearing into his own head for short amounts of time, but after a while he started raising these walls around him, pretending to be someone who is not even though the real Harry I had met two years prior was something I wish everyone had in his life.

Of course, Harry did not only have a name to keep, but also a reputation. Yes, he was pictured as a womanizer and I think he did won best dressed male again last year, although I don’t keep up with that. I keep up with what actual Harry is up too, what ticks him, what he enjoys doing. Most of the things the media bring to attention aren’t very good small details of a bigger picture.

I think that’s why this friendship works so damn well. That might also be the absolute number one reason I fell madly in love with this man. I’d never risk anything to put our friendship in jeopardy, because I honestly believe I’d never find someone like him, ever again. He was the only real thing in a world filled with lies and misinterpretations.

I’m actually terrified I’ll never get to see the real Harry again. And whatever I try, I just can’t seem to get through to him. So when he appeared at my door, giant grin on his rosy lips and a bottle of expensive champagne held up in one hand, I couldn’t decline.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Harry laughs, pulling his bottom lip between his pearly white teeth before his glance is cast in my direction. I can feel the rosy hue appear on my cheeks, but they’re transparent to Harry’s gaze due to the harsh lighting of the fireworks going off in front of us.

“This lighting is doing you good.” I decide to go with a true compliment, although that wasn’t initially on my mind. I love the smile that it draws on his lips, the way his eyes crinkle and how he then casts his glance away. “Do you say that to all men?”

“Only you.” I shrug my shoulders with a grin and let a shriek flow from my lips when I feel Harry’s elbow collide with my ribs. “Hey, I gave you a really nice compliment and this is how you repay me?”
“What do you want to hear? How beautiful you look? You always do, Y/n.” Harry huffs as he rolls his eyes and fixates his gaze back onto the sparkly lights disappearing as quickly as they appear.

“You’re one of the most kind-hearted people I know Harry, you deserve all of this success you’re receiving, you know that right?” I decide to bring up the new single, the one that’s supposed to come out in just a few hours – at midnight to be exact. He hadn’t mentioned it since I had heard it when he had initially finished it. It was his baby, his first solo record and he didn’t seem to utter another word about it. It had been months and it saddened me because it was so damn good.

“How is that new man of yours?” Harry’s voice changes tone, and when I decide to peek I see the frown that has set onto his eyebrow. I guess we’re still not talking about it, and I decide to drop it. Last time I had tried to initiate conversation we ended up not speaking to each other for almost two weeks. Which were the worst two weeks of my life, really. “That’s over and done with, didn’t I mention that?”

“Well no, you didn’t.” Harry sighs and I see the small smile tug at his lips. I scoot a little bit closer to Harry, although I’m not sure why. “Well, sorry then.”
“Why did you break up? I thought you liked him.” Harry throws his arm around my shoulder and I lay my head on his shoulder, taking in a deep breath as I focus back on the popping flashing of light.

“I never really did, I think.” I mumble, dropping my hand onto Harry’s knee and giving it a firm squeeze. “I’m searching for something else.” I finish off, feeling my heart throb in my throat. Indirectly, in my own head, I had confessed my love for Harry. He would never see it as such, but that didn’t take away any of the anxiety coursing through my body.

“Well it’s great that you know what you want.”

“Don’t you know what you want?”

“Yeah, but I’m sure she hasn’t even given it a thought. I think I’m nothing more to her than just a really good friend.”

“Who says that? Harry if you want this girl, go and get her. Do you even realize how amazing you are? You always put me up when I’m down. You watch the most horrifying movies with me whenever I want to, without any complaint. You once showed up at my door just because I sounded blue to you on the phone. I’m sure whatever girl you want is just as madly in love with you as you are with her.” I grin, squeezing his knee for emphasis as I let my eyes dart along the sky, trying to follow every firework going off.

“Do you know what sign of the times is about?” Harry suddenly questions and I feel myself stiffen in his embrace as he for the first time in weeks talks about his song or upcoming album.
“Well I interpreted it as hope.” I decide to voice my own thoughts and feelings as simply as possible.

“That’s the great part of it. I think – in whatever time of your life you are, it might – I don’t know – can be interpreted in whatever way it suits you.” Harry starts to stumble over his words as if he were nervous, his ring clad fingers toying with his jeans as he avoids my gaze as well as the sounds going on around us.

“So you’re saying I’m hoping for something?” I smile, somewhat feeling my own nerves bubbling in my stomach as I pull away from Harry, smiling brightly at his twinkling eyes.

“Yeah, you could say it like that. But I think we all hope something, right?” Harry grins right back at me and I slowly let my eyes close, nodding once, but firmly at his statement – or question.

“Hm.” I agree verbally, wanting to lay my head again against his shoulder but he stops me, his eyes searching mine tentatively as I keep frozen in my spot. I let a low breath slip past my opened lips, my tongue darting out to wet them before I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, slowly biting down on it.

Something seems to click in Harry’s mind and before I can completely comprehend what is happening or is about to happen, Harry leans in but hovers right before his lips are about to meet mine. He lets me decide if I want this – if I want to kiss him and as soon as my brain has caught up to current events, I lean the short distance and press my lips firmly against his.

Harry’s large hand cups my cheek and for a second I feel like I might burst out into tears of happiness, but instead I settle for a large grin which almost breaks up our kiss. I feel the vibrations of Harry’s chuckle against my lips as my eyelids flutter.

Harry pulls away, keeping his hand in place, as he seems to catch his breath. His lips press to mine once more in a gentle, simple peck right as the last few fireworks make their last pop in front of us, illuminating the dark night sky.

Harry Styles - “Confessions” Part Five

This is the conclusion to the series! I hope you all have enjoyed it and that this lives up to your expectations. Thanks for all of the love and support I have received for this imagine. Means the world to me.


Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight


“How long does it take to get the results of this test?” You wonder out loud to Harry later that evening. The two of you were headed for LAX, going to pick up Anne, whose flight was to be landing at any minute. Harry had gone early that morning and gotten his blood drawn, as did the mother. Harry told you the two of them didn’t see or speak to each other though, which was good. 

“They said a couple of days but would rush it because of the circumstances.” Harry explains, keeping his eyes forward and both hands tight on the steering wheel.

“You mean because of who you are.” You clarified for him. “If you aren’t the father, they’ll want to know as soon as possible so they can make sure no one starts rumors you’re having a child, and if they do they have proof that you aren’t.” 

“Can we jus’ not talk abou’ this? ’m nervous, ’m scared, I don’ need you over here sayin’ stuff like tha’ to make me feel worse.” This was the first time he had snapped at you in awhile, especially since all of this had happened. It showed you just how much this was taking a toll on him. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, reaching over to rest your hand on his bicep. “I was just thinking out loud, I guess.” You tell him, removing your hand. He sighs, instantly regretting the tone of voice he had taken with you. He glances over at you but you weren’t looking at him and instead were focused on the buildings and cars flying past outside your window. 

Harry had felt a sense of hope last night and this morning that things would be okay with the two of you. You had kissed him, you had said you loved him, you’d laughed and joked with him this morning when he got home from the doctors office. Things felt normal and okay again. And he knew the results of the paternity test would most likely determine if you would return back to London as his girlfriend or his ex to never see him again. 

He wasn’t sure how he felt about all of this anymore. Of course, he didn’t particularly want this baby, but if it was his he knew he would love it completely and raise him or her to the best of his ability, even if that meant he would lose you. He would be a parent and he would have to do what he had to for his child. For the fear of losing you alone was the only reason he was praying the baby turned out not to be his. He hadn’t let himself feel that emotional connection yet. He hadn’t seen an ultrasound, he hadn’t heard a heartbeat, right now it was an abstract idea, a phantom consuming his thoughts until all of this was resolved. 

“Hey,” Harry breaks from his thoughts and looks over at you for a second, seeing that you were looking at him with concern riddled across that beautiful face. You reach over, resting a hand on his leg. “You alright?” 

“Jus’ thinkin’.” Harry answers, turning back to the road. They were almost at the airport. He couldn’t wait to see his mother. He needed the comfort of his mothers arms around him as he figured this all out. You were also excited to see her. Anne had always been such a comfort to you and it was going to be nice to have her around to help. 

“What about?” You wonder, your hand still resting on his leg. You see him bite at his lower lip, clearly unsure if he wanted to tell you what was on his mind or not. “You don’t have to tell me.” You assure him but he shakes his head. 

“’m jus’ thinkin’ abou’ how I’ll feel if the baby isn’ mine and how I’ll feel if it is mine.” He explains quietly, giving a small shrug of his muscular shoulders. “I don’ feel a connection yet and I know the only way there would be chance of you forgiving me would be if I wasn’ the father so I prefer tha’ instead of a child with someone else righ’ now.” 

“Whether you’re the father or not, you still cheated and then lied to me, Harry. I’m not going to just forgive you because you might not be the father.” Though admittedly, you would be more so open to resolving all of this if he wasn’t going to be tied down to a child. 

“Yeah, bu’ if ‘m no’ then I have more time to spend on gettin’ you back.” He grins over at you then and takes your hand from his leg to bring the back of your hand up to his lips. He glances over at you as his soft lips kiss your skin before he puts your hand back on his leg and focuses back on the road. You’re heart raced at his touch, your mind going a mile a minute. 

You didn’t speak for the remainder of the trip, which was thankfully not much, but you did keep your hand on his leg. Once you saw Anne and you both got out of the car, heading to greet her, she pulled you both into a hug one at a time, holding you both close against her as you hug her just as tightly back. 

“Oh, Harry,” She comments, resting a hand on her son’s cheek as she looks into his tired and clearly stressed face but he gives her a smile, not wanting to upset her more than he already had. He hugs her again before he takes her bags and heads to put them in the back of his car while the two of you hug again. 

The drive home was thankfully not awkward. Baby talk didn’t happen, instead Anne shared stories of what was going on at home, what her and Robin had been up to, as well as Harry’s sister Gemma. It was nice to talk about something other than the baby and cheating and just pretend that everything was okay again.

“So, am I taking the guest room or is it pre-occupied?” Anne questioned when Harry was close to pulling into the driveway. That’s when you glance over at Harry, realizing the two of you clearly hadn’t thought about that. You’d been sleeping in the guest room still while he was in your old bedroom. Now with Anne needing the guest room where would you go. 

“I’ll just… I’ll take the couch. It will only be for a few days anyway.” You answer, giving a shrug. The couch was plenty big enough and decently comfortable so it shouldn’t be too bad. 

“I’ll take the couch.” Harry argues. “Or, you could stay with me. We have a huge bed, or well… I have a huge bed.. we won’ have to sleep close together or anythin’.” You bite your lip but decide he was right. You wouldn’t have to be close to him as the bed was in fact huge with plenty of space but you had to admit it would still be a little bit weird and hard to be so close in a bed that the two of you had once been intimate in but it would have to do for the next few days until all of this was finished and you returned home. 

It was so nice to have Anne there. She helped fill that awkward silence that sometimes fell between you and Harry. She also made it easy to not talk about the current situation, the two of you were escaping all of it finally and it felt so nice to have laughs and comfort instead of arguing and tears. 

“Jus’ kick me if I ge’ too close.” Harry comments to you after the two of you had gotten ready for bed. You were pulling all the extra pillows off the bed that Harry had always been annoyed by. He always claimed that you didn’t need more than what you used to sleep so why overload the bed with smaller decorative ones? You said it made the room complete and they were staying, so he put up with it but you had to admit, the task of taking them off every night did get kind of annoying, as did having to put them all back on in the morning. “You know I like a cuddle.” 

“And you know I have no problem kicking you.” You respond with an innocent smile to which his response was to grab a pillow and toss it at you. You laugh as it bounces off your arm that you held up to shield yourself. “You can kick me if I get too close too. Not that I will but ya know, just in case.” 

“Yeah, I will.” He smirks at you as the two of you pull back the blankets and slide into bed. You sigh as you collapse back into the pillows, pulling the thick blanket up to your chin as you sink into the mattress. You had missed this comfortable bed. 

Surprisingly, the two of you did keep your distance from one another throughout the night. He stayed on his side, and you on yours. He woke before you and couldn’t help but smile over at your sleeping form, needing to resist the urge to pull you close against him like he used to. He knew you wouldn’t like that though so instead he just leaned in, pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, careful not to wake up, before sliding out of bed. 

“Mornin’, sunshine.” He greeted you when you entered the kitchen a little while later. He lifts his forkful of eggs in a greeting before sliding the plate over to you when you sit beside him. “Eggs?” He asks, his mouth full. You laugh and shove him with your elbow before grabbing his fork. 

“You’re disgusting.” You comment before shoving your own forkful of eggs into your mouth. You realize then that maybe sharing a plate of breakfast wasn’t a normal and just friends kind of thing to do but it’s what the two of you had done for so long, it happened so naturally just as holding hands after the meeting with the lawyers had been. You push the thoughts from your head though as Anne walks into the room, freshly showered and grinning at her son and you, happy to see that things were clearly getting better with the two of you.

“Morning everyone!” She greets, going about making herself a cup of coffee. Harry watched you through the rest of breakfast, the two of you passing the fork back and forth until the eggs were gone. He kept thinking about how nice all of this had been and how easily it could go back to this but that damn test was looming over everything. It could ruin all of this but then he kept thinking how he already had ruined all of this but these moments gave him hope that just maybe it wasn’t over, that you and him still had a chance as a couple. 

It had now been three days since he took the paternity test and still hadn’t gotten an answer but everyday he woke up with his hands shaking, a nervous sweat building on his skin as he thought about how today could be the day. This morning you had picked up on it as you awoke and knew instantly what he was thinking, so against your better judgement you pulled him close and allowed him to curl against you and cry. 

“I don’ know what I’m goin’ to do.” He cried into your neck, holding you tight against him. “I can’ be the father, I can’t.” 

“We’ll get through this, Harry,” You realized as you said it how that sounded and Harry clearly did too as he gave a small hiccup and lifted his head to frown down at you. “I mean… I.. we’ll get through finding out the results. I… we’ll figure out the rest when we get there.” You were so confused as to how you were feeling lately, about him, about the cheating, about the baby. 

You loved Harry, you loved him so much, and he had been showing you how much he loved you these last few days. He was being caring, affectionate as best he could without letting it go too far and make you uncomfortable, he was being his old self and you had missed that. You missed Harry, and you missed being in a relationship with him. Maybe forgiving him wouldn’t be such a bad thing. He had been your life for so long, you could perhaps try at least. 

It was later that afternoon, the two of you and Anne had been watching a movie when Harry’s phone rang. You looked over at him beside you and saw that his face had grown pale. You glance down at his phone and see it was his lawyer calling him. The results were in. 

“Answer it, Harry.” You hiss at him, elbowing him. He looks over at you, his eyes wide and a crease formed between his brows. “I can do it.” You reach for the phone but he seems to snap out of it and stands up, accepting the call. 

He walks across the room, his back to both of you as he talks low, his voice quiet. You and Anne look over at each other and she reaches over to take your hand as she picks up on the way your heart rate had increases and your breathing had become shallow as you focused on Harry, trying to hear what was happening but you couldn’t hear him. 

And then the phone fell from his hand as he ended the call and your heart sank. That gave you the answer of what the news he had just received was and you felt your heart shattering all over again. Harry was to be a father, you just knew it. 

“Harry?” Anne questions after a few moments of silence, Harry still with his back to the two of you. “What did he say?” But Harry still didn’t answer. 

“Harry? Talk to us, please.” You stand then, releasing Anne to walk towards him. “Please.” Maybe it was the fact that you had come closer, or maybe it was just the fact that you had a quiet plea to your voice and he sensed you were close to tears, but he finally turned. His face was dry but his eyes were wide and he had an emotion hidden in his eyes that you couldn’t quite pick up on. “What did he say?” 

“It’s…” He takes a deep breath and then to your astonishment, he began to smile. “It’s not mine.” His breath was just a whisper but you heard it loud and clear. “They said there wasn’ a match at all and there’s no way it’s mine.” Your head was buzzing, unable to form a coherent thought as you look up into those green eyes. 

“Oh, Harry,” You both turn as Anne stands and rushes over to hug him tightly but you still just stood there. “I’ll… I’ll give you two some time to talk this through.” She kisses Harry’s cheek, then yours after giving you a quick hug, and leaves the room. Harry turns to you, silently questioning your thoughts. 

“It’s over, love, it’s all over. We don’ have to worry abou’ this anymore.” All he wanted to hear now after hearing those amazing words was to hear you say you still loved him and were willing to give him another chance. “Okay, look,” He steps forward and takes your hands in his, gripping at you tightly. You look up into his eyes, still wanting your thoughts to straighten themselves out but your head was still buzzing so instead you allowed him to talk. “I know I still messed up, I cheated, and tha’ will forever be my bigges’ regret bu’ if you le’ me, I will spend the rest of my life tryin’ to make up for this. I love you, I love you so much, Y/N. Please… give me jus’ one more chance, tha’s all ‘m askin for.” 

“Harry,” You whisper, releasing one of his hands to instead bring your hand up to rest on his slightly stubble covered cheek. He hadn’t shaved that morning but you liked the feel of it under your fingertips. “It’s going to take a lot for me to fully forgive you.” He sighs, closing his eyes as he willed the tears not to come. He knew this was it. He had made it to the other side of this whole pregnancy ordeal so now you were going to say since he didn’t need you anymore you were going to leave. “But I’m willing to try.” His eyes pop open and he sees you giving him a soft smile. 

“Really?” He whispers, unable to believe that you were willing to give him another chance, and give him another shot at being a better boyfriend this time. You still wanted him, you still wanted to be with him, and he was stunned that somehow, after all this shit you were willing to try again. He didn’t deserve you, he really didn’t. 

“I love you so much, Harry,” You say. “And even after all of this, through all of this, if I can still love you, then just maybe we really can make this work.” 

“Oh my god.” He whispers it like a prayer and then pulls you into his arms, his face burying in your neck as he holds you close. Your arms wrap tightly around his shoulders, both of you with grins you couldn’t control. “I love you, I love you so much.” He pulls back to say and then his lips were on yours. “I don’ deserve you-” 

“Just shut up and kiss me again, Harry. I’m done talking.” You cut him off, a grin on your face. His face broke out into his adorable boyish grin that you had missed so much. You tangle your fingers in his hair as his lips join with yours again.