one direction sweet

Kiwi - imagine

Hi Loves! Here’s quite a long imagine for ya. Its kind of my interpretation of the song, so a little bit different from the story the lyrics tell. Enjoy!

(for those who don’t know/aren’t familiar, the term “kiwi” is a term for people from New Zealand, kind of like “aussie” is for Australians)

Disclaimer: included swearing/cursing towards the end.



It was the call that hurt Harry the most. It was all the weeks, months and days you two had spent together, and it was all jumbled together in one crackly, long distance call. To be fair, the gap between you was very present. He was hard to track down, constantly travelling from place to place. And you were in New Zealand, just like you always had been.

When you first walked into the studio all those many months ago, Harry nearly fell off his chair. He was in New Zealand for a bit of time while he was on break. The small country attracted him, its peaceful serenity was calming in his hectic life. You were calming. Harry always said that it was your laugh that made him fall, literally and metaphorically. The minute you walked into the small box-like studio and saw the shocked faces from the several nearly 6 ft men, you just couldn’t help yourself. It was a cackle, and it made everyone who was near you light up. It was infectious. Harry was stunned, and his dimply grin broke forth. From that day on, he was undeniably infatuated. People thought he had been drugged. He had in a way. You were his drug, and he just couldn’t get enough of you.

His large hands were constantly running down the dip in your back or resting on your knee. His green eyes always followed you, and his mouth drank you up. You had never really thought you were pretty. Sure, being a social butterfly, people were always around. You like your hair, and your smile wasn’t shabby. But Harry was mesmerised, and everyone could see it.

New Zealand was your oyster. After weeks upon weeks cooped up in the tiny studio, working on a billion different songs, cabin fever was growing. So you and Harry loaded up your ageing Ford Focus and drove for as long as you could. His ringed fingers tapping along to the beat of the radio, and your voice singing to the mountains. It was a good life, Harry decided. The endless green hills and ocean went on and on, and cheesy as it may sound, so did your love.

They say that every relationship has a honeymoon period. At the time, you were both completely locked at this stage, But life goes on. You started to get tired of Harry coming back home at 4 in the morning, mumbling a “hey love” before collapsing on the queen sized bed in your apartment. You started to hate the paparazzi, their beady cameras scanning your body. You couldn’t even go to the supermarket anymore without being photographed. You started to despise how Harry’s days and nights were spent away. You hardly ever saw your boy anymore.

Harry knew you were upset with it all. He was always empathetic towards you, at times he really felt like he was living through you. But there was only so much his brain could hold. It seemed like he just didn’t have enough space for you anymore. The nights were either filled with shouting, or angry sex that neither of you enjoyed. The only time you could really look at Harry without wanting to argue was when he was sleeping. His eyes closed, dark lashes gently resting on his cheeks. Pink lips slightly parted, forehead smooth. It was the Harry you remember falling in love with.

You knew and Harry knew it was never gonna last. It was a Tuesday night, and the house was still echoing from your biggest fight yet. You lay curled up on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the words that rocked your world still vibrating in your ears.

“You are so fuckin annoying! I never have any peace anymore, you just nag nag nag at me every fuckin minute of every day!”

“Well, what the fuck do you want me to do Harry? I know shit all about what’s going on and I’m sick of it! You’re out all bloody day. It’s like you don’t give two shits anymore!”

He looked up at you sharply then. You had been sitting on the edge of the couch, and he had been lying on the floor by the TV. You remember his eyes flashing. They normally looked at you with so much love and emotion, but you couldn’t remember seeing any of that. There was just pure raw anger. He had got up and stormed into the kitchen. You just had to get off the couch and follow him. Looking back now, that was such a stupid fucking decision.

Harry had been pushing through the freezer before noticing you. He had straightened up, mouth set in a firm line. “You’re damn right. Maybe I don’t give two shits anymore. Maybe I want to be in England or LA right now with my friends, or loving some other girl and having the time of my life. But I’m here, aren’t I?” You lost it then. You always had a fiery temper at the best of times, but there was something about his words that made your voice come out quiet, cold and hard.

“There’s nothing stopping you ya know. It’s not like you have a girlfriend that loves you or cares about you. It’s not like you have a girlfriend that’s given up her whole fucking life to live with you. It’s not like you have a girlfriend that wants to marry you someday!”                                                                            There were tears streaming down your cheeks at this point. Fingernails cutting into your palms as you clenched your fists.                                                        “You were my fucking saviour Harry. I thought you were always gonna love me.”

Harry paced over to the front door of the apartment, grabbing his coat off the dining room table.

“Well, I guess you thought wrong then, didn’t ya love?”

With those dreaded words, the wooden door slammed. The bang clouding your ears as you had slid to the ground sobbing. After about 2 hours, you had gone the bedroom you shared with Harry. That’s where you were still, laying there, just breathing.

You expected Harry to come back. He expected himself to. And he tried. Every night he would let himself into the apartment, just to grab his things. At least that’s what he told himself. He always got stuck. Sometimes it would be because you had fallen asleep on the couch with the TV still blaring Call the Midwife. He would watch the light flicker over your face, before picking you up and placing you gently in bed. Sometimes it would be because you had fallen asleep in his walk-in wardrobe. Weird as is sounded, it was because you had been cuddling his colourful shirts, pretending they were him. At first, Harry laughed at this. But the more and more he found you asleep in the wardrobe, the more he found himself with tears running down his face. He missed you. So much. And it was always with regret that he left you, asleep in the quiet apartment.

You knew he came every night, but you never willed yourself to stay awake, and you didn’t quite know why. But the weeks went by, and Harry gradually stopped coming. It could have been he had retrieved all of his things. But you knew and he knew the crowded apartment was still filled with his belongings. It could have been the fact that his friends and family were getting fed up with his moping, and finally decided that it wasn’t healthy. And it could have been the fact that he had finally got over his kiwi.

You had seen the magazine articles. Harry was finally back in London and causing a raucous. You on the other hand, and found out about the baby a couple of weeks ago. Harry’s number stayed cemented in your phone. It took your mum to finally knock some sense into you, saying that maybe you should tell the father of the child that he actually is going to be a dad. So you called. When the ringing finally subsided, and Harry’s voice came over the speaker, telling you to “leave a message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks.” it almost broke you. But finally, after many coffees and pep talks, a message flowed from your lips.

“Hey Harry, it’s me. Been a while huh? Wasn’t going to call you at all, but Mum persuaded me. She’s always been a fan of yours. Charmed her right to the bone. Anyway, just thought you should know. I’m having your baby. It’s none of your business, but it is technically half of you, so best you know. You don’t need to care for the kid or send money or anything like that. We’re gonna be just fine without you. Just like I have been. So just leave it, ok?                                        So yea, kinda dropped a bomb there didn’t I? Have fun living your life being a rock star. Don’t call back. Bye”

It was those words that made Harry’s healing heart explode.



hOLY SHit! This has been sitting in my notebook for a while now, so it’s a bit overdue. I’m kinda thinking of doing a part 2, so pretty please let me know if I should! Lots of love xxx

10

ok but harry in blue is the reason for my existence

••• Part 2 http://nicoletti345.tumblr.com/post/162006502489/harry-wearing-blue-is-the-reason-for-my-existence
Sweet Creature

Click here if you’d like to listen to the song to help set the mood. x

It was one of those days.

Harry adored his job. He really did. His work was his first love, he always said. But there were certainly days where it all got to be a little too much.

He woke up at six in the morning to be greeted by a rainy and foggy sky outside. He spent a good ten minutes gazing at the great love of his life, her hair splayed in all different directions from having forgotten to tie it up in a ponytail like she usually did. Her lips were slightly parted, and her eyes were still puffy from the night before. He exhaled a sigh at the memory of it—it was the first time they’d really fought in a little while, but it’d been a doozy. Exhaustion took it’s toll on the both of them, but they were both too stubborn to admit it. It had been over something petty that he wasn’t even angry about anymore, even though at the moment in all seemed so important. And even though they tried to never go to bed angry, their tired eyes beat out the need to make up.

He exhaled a soft sigh as he watched his love, and he could see the tension built up in her features still from last night. He didn’t want to wake her just yet, because he knew that she would not love being woken up at six in the morning if she didn’t need to get up. The two of them rarely ever got a good night’s sleep anymore, and he didn’t want to take away her rest.

He got himself out of bed and walked over to the bathroom, going about his morning routine as quietly as possible as to not wake his girls. Within half an hour he was dressed up in a pair of black jeans and one of his button-ups. Usually he wouldn’t get so dolled up to go out this early, but he had a few morning radio shows he was making a live guest appearance on and impressions mattered to him. Having decided to get breakfast on the way to work, he quickly slipped out of the house without making a sound.

The rest of the day didn’t get any better.

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