#work has been weirdly tiring… like i have to stand all day long bc whenever i get a chair someone else steals it the very second i stand up— | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hstyleshoney · 3 years

Note

hey! could u maybe write something where h notices Y/N is distant after he comes back from tour? like she doesn’t feel stable in the relationship anymore bc he’s always away or something like that but he doesn’t want to break up. lmao this is weirdly specific but I really hope u get over your writers block <3

This has been in my drafts for a couple months now. Finally had time to finish it. Sorry it took so long. Hope you like It! <3

WC: 5.3K // angst, fluff

April.

Harry is tired.

He’s only been back in London for two days but he is completely drained. Mentally and physically. All he wants to do is snuggle down on the sofa with his girl and relax. He wants to hold her as close to him as humanly possible; feel her warmth and her smooth skin against his. He wants to spend all night just giggling away at nothing in particular with her because they’re both just so happy to be around one another again and whisper sweet nothings to her all night to let her know how much he missed her and loves her.

He has 21 days home before the next part of his tour kicks off - in Australia. He wants to make the most out of their time together before he has to leave again.

But something is wrong.

She is distant. She’s not letting him hold her, she hardly smiles when she sees him and she’s being off. It’s weird. Harry doesn’t like it.

He noticed it the second he arrived at her flat Monday night. She didn’t come running when he walked through the door. She didn’t talk non-stop for hours like she usually did when they had spent an excessive amount of time apart. She didn’t dig through his suitcase to get a look at all his latest purchases of clothes just because she loved fashion and got excited about all the designer items he owned. It was odd.

They didn’t even have sex.

Harry told himself it was probably just because it was late when he arrived and she was probably just tired. She’d be fine in the morning.

But she is still being as off with him as she was on Monday night, despite the fact that he has been back home in London for a couple days now. Harry doesn’t know what to do. Usually being back home with her brings him comfort and lets him relax after weeks on the road. Now it only has the opposite effect. It’s disheartening. He doesn’t understand it.

On Friday night they go out for dinner with a couple of friends of his. Harry hopes it will lift her spirits but she stays quiet for most of the evening. She is gloomy, not her usual self, and the twinkle in her eyes is missing. It’s awkward and when James shoots him a questioning look from across the table Harry knows that everyone has noticed that something is wrong.

Harry feels sick.

He is worried. Stressed. Anxious. Maybe even a tiny bit angry.

And he is afraid to ask her about it because he has a bad feeling about the whole thing. His gut is telling him that her lack of affection is because of him. He knows he has to ask her about it, but he is holding off for as long as he possibly can. Because asking her about why she is being distant makes it real and he is not ready for her to confirm his suspicions. He is still holding onto the small hope that her mood is because of something that happened at work or with her friends.

But she usually tells him everything and now she hasn’t said anything.

So the only explanation Harry can think of is that he is the reason for her low mood.

And he is not ready to hear it.

He knows her though. He knows she hates upsetting or disappointing others and will avoid it at all costs, even if it means neglecting her own thoughts and feelings until she’s too overwhelmed by it all. She has the kindest heart he has ever met; she is perhaps too kind for her own good.

Which is why he knows he has to ask her and get her to open up about whatever is going on in her head. For her sake but also for his own.

The car ride back to his house after their dinner is, unsurprisingly, quiet and somewhat tense. Harry wants to ask her right there and then why she is being so off, but he also knows he won’t be able to focus on the road if he does. He can hardly focus enough as it is. So he stays quiet and glances over at her whenever he gets the chance, and his heart sinks from how sad she looks.

She doesn’t look at him once though and only rests her head against the window as she watches the other cars around them, picking at the skin around her nails; a sign Harry has learned means that she is either stressed or upset... or both.

Once they make it to his house reality kind of hits him like a ton of bricks and he is one hundred percent sure her mood is because of him now and he is anxious to find out the reason why that is and fearful of where the conversation might lead. What if he loses her? He is not sure his heart can take it.

But she lets him put a hand on her back as they walk into the house and it’s nice to have her close again, she smells so good, and he has to stop himself from falling into her. He wants to wrap his arms around her and never let go.

“I’m gonna go get ready for bed,” she tells him quietly when they get inside, avoiding eye contact, and swiftly disappears up the stairs before he gets the chance to ask her about anything. Harry almost calls her name to stop her but decides to give her a couple of minutes before he approaches her about the elephant in the room.

Also, he needs some time to get his own head together and prepare for whatever might be thrown his way. As scared as he might be there is also a frustration building up inside him from her shutting him out. He had been gone for almost three months and they hadn’t been able to see each other as much as they would’ve liked to. He had been looking forward to just coming home to her and getting a couple of weeks with her before continuing his tour.

There is a lump in his throat as he makes his way up the stairs. His palms are sweaty. His head is spinning. And he realises, for the first time in his life, that he is absolutely terrified about the possibility of losing someone. Her. He has been in love before. He has gone through break-ups. But none of them have made him feel like this. It’s like someone is suffocating him.

And the break-up hasn’t even happened yet. He doesn’t even know if it will happen. He just knows that the girl who has his whole heart in his hands is being distant and won’t talk to him after weeks apart. It’s not a good sign.

She is still in the bathroom when he comes upstairs. The door is open and he takes a few seconds to just watch her, leaning against the doorframe with a fond look on his face. He can’t take his eyes off her. Her hair is pushed back by her pink fuzzy headband and her face is free from all the makeup she had previously worn. She is beautiful, he thinks and closes his eyes for a second to savor the small moment.

It’s just so familiar. He has seen her get ready for bed a hundred times before and he never gets tired of it. It’s the simplest thing but it makes him feel home.

She feels like home.

And then she spots him by the door and a small squeal escapes her lips which brings him back. “Bloody hell Harry” she breathes out and puts a hand over her chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he replies and shoots her a weak smile.

“I’m almost done, just give me a couple minutes and then the bathroom is all yours” she says and picks up one of her many skin care products to continue her routine. She speaks fast and avoids his gaze. Harry clears his throat awkwardly.

“Actually,” he starts. “I was wondering if we could talk?”

She freezes for a brief moment and Harry almost feels bad. Silence falls over them again and it’s all the confirmation he needs to know that whatever is going on has something to do with him. Harry is almost certain she’s going to tell him she’s too tired to talk or come up with another excuse, but eventually she nods.

“Yes,” she murmurs. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” he nods as well and tries to give her another small smile to ease the tension between them but it’s useless. The knot in his stomach weighs him down too much. “I’ll let you finish and you can just come find me, yeah?”

Harry waits for her in the bedroom. He sits down on the bed before standing up almost just as fast. Then he sits back down again. His throat feels dry and his heart is beating so hard inside his chest it feels like it might burst. He’s trying to come up with what to say to her but as soon as she walks in his mind goes completely blank. He wants to believe that he is wrong, that it’s just a big misunderstanding, but her sad eyes make it hard.

She looks so soft and small as she takes a seat next to him and Harry has to fight the urge to just pull her into his arms. It’s strange and he doesn’t understand why she is being so distant. Everything was fine between them before he left for his tour and as far as he knows nothing happened while he was away.

“Have I done something wrong?” he begins.

She sighs and looks down at her hands, still doing her best to avoid eye contact.

“I’m sorry H,” she says and her voice cracks a little at the end. Harry feels sick again. “I know I've been acting weird. Distant. I’m sorry.”

“Will you please look at me?” he begs because he can’t stand her shutting him out like she is. It’s never happened before. So when she looks up at him with tears in her eyes both relief and pangs of agony washes over him. It kills him; fills him with worry. Harry doesn’t know how he is going to get through this. This wasn’t how he had planned his return home. Far from. “What’s going on?”

“I love you,” she tells him and swallows thickly.

Harry nods and tries to stop his head from spinning so much.

“And I love you.”

“I... I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

There it is. He knew it was coming but hearing the words come out of her mouth is a punch to the face. He doesn’t know how to respond to it. Silence falls between them just as heavy raindrops start to fall against the windowsill outside.

“Okay,” is all he can say.

“I just - I hate missing my best friend every single day.” A tear rolls down her cheek and she’s quick to wipe it away, taking a shaky breath. “I feel very alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Harry says and reaches out to take her soft hands into his, holding them tight. She gives him a sad smile and laces her fingers with his. He never wants to let go.

“I know,” she replies softly. “But it feels like I am. I come home to an empty flat, have dinner on my own and watch some stupid reality show to kill time. I can’t even call you whenever I want to because you’re on stage or busy with something else. I feel like I’m just constantly waiting for you. It feels impossible for us to build a life together.”

Harry wants to tell her it’ll change. That it’ll get better. That he’ll be better. But it’s a promise he can’t make because he’s leaving again, soon. He still has shows to do in Australia, North- and South America. He still has a tour to do - and hopefully more tours in the future as well.

And he loves his job. It’s his dream. He is so grateful for everything he gets to do.

But he has never hated his job as much as he does in that moment right there, and he hates himself for that too.

“I’m here now,” he says weakly and tightens his fingers around hers.

“Yeah, I know,” she croaks and when she cups his cheek in the hand he’s not holding Harry can’t stop himself from leaning into her touch. “But you’re leaving again, what happens then? We’ve been in the same time zone and country now for three months and barely had the chance to talk - what happens when you’re on the other side of the world?”

“I’ll make time for you. I promise,” Harry tells her and blinks away his own tears that are threatening to fall.

“But you won’t be here,” she replies sadly and pulls away from him. Harry feels cold as soon as her hands leave his. He wants to scream but there is no air in his lungs. He’s losing her and he doesn't know what to do or say to stop it. He’s helpless.

And when a strangled sob escapes her he thinks his heart might shatter into a million pieces. It’s the worst sound he has ever heard and it kills him knowing it’s because of him. “I hate this,” she cries. “I’m so sorry Harry. I’m being so fucking selfish.”

“Stop,” he huffs and angles his body so he can move himself closer to her. Desperate to fix whatever is happening between them before it’s too late.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffles and bows her head, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t want to make you feel bad because I know how much you love what you do and I would never ask you to stop. I love watching you on stage, it’s my favorite thing in the world... but I just- I just don’t know if I’m happy like this. I don’t like the person I become when you’re away.”

“What can I do?” Harry begs even though he knows there’s not a lot he can do right now. “I’m not losing you.” He takes her hands into his again, running his thumb over her knuckles. “I love you.”

“I love you too Harry, so much.” Her voice trembles as she speaks and Harry feels his whole stomach drop as the next few words fall from her lips. He’s sure he is going to pass out. “Sometimes love isn’t enough though, is it?”

“What are you saying?” he whispers as he tightens his hold on her hands. She looks up at him, her glossy eyes meeting his green ones, and Harry can no longer hold back his own tears.

“I don’t know yet,” she admits, her voice low and thick. Harry tries to think of something to say that will change her mind but his head is swirling with a million different things all at once. He can’t think straight. He only knows he refuses to lose her. He won’t lose her. So he tells her that again.

“I’m not losing you.”

That night they fall asleep on different sides of the bed with their backs facing each other and Harry might just break.

May 19th.

Harry Styles ❤️ 11:34 AM We just landed in Australia. I wish you were here. I love you. xxx

May 31st.

Harry Styles ❤️ 5:47 PM Last show is done. I’ll be home on Tuesday. Let’s talk then. xxx

June.

She is tired.

The last three weeks have been brutal. Or, actually, the whole month has been brutal. Ever since she told Harry about her insecurities regarding their relationship she felt like her whole life had just fallen apart. She couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. Nothing.

She went to work and when the day was over she went straight home and watched every episode she could find of ‘The Great British Bake Off’ to numb her mind. Her co-workers express their worry when they see her come to work with the same outfit for the fourth day in a row, greasy hair and big dark circles under her eyes. They tell her to take a few days off.

But she doesn’t.

Because she needs work as a distraction. She can’t just sit at home and think about everything that happened between her and Harry before he left for Australia. The morning after their talk they hardly said a word to each other and she could see that he was hurt. It killed her knowing it was because of her.

It was just that the European tour had been harder on her than she ever could've imagined. Other than the London shows she had only been able to go to the one in Manchester and the one in Paris, but that was it. She couldn’t get more time off to go see him and whenever she finished work at the end of a long day and had time to call him he was already on stage or about to be.

They hardly spoke and it made her sad. The reality of how different their lives were slapped her hard in the face that first leg of his tour. So hard she couldn’t bring herself to be happy when he came back home to London, because she knew he was leaving again.

She figured that maybe she just needed some time to get used to having him around again and that things would go back to how they usually were after a day or so. They didn’t. Instead all she could think about was the fact that he was leaving again and how every hour that passed was an hour of their time together that was gone.

She had been stupid to think he wouldn’t notice.

When he asked her to talk she knew that she would no longer be able to keep things to herself. It all just came crashing down.

She hasn’t seen Harry in almost a month now and her whole body is aching for his touch again. At the same time, she knows she has no one but herself to blame for her heartache.

She loves him. She loves him so fucking much.

She just doesn’t know if she can handle the distance. She doesn’t know if she can handle only speaking to him through text messages because of the time difference and/or because their schedules don't add up. She doesn’t know if she can handle all the rumors circulating on social media whenever he has been seen with someone she doesn’t recognize. She’s become jealous and she doesn’t like it.

But she loves him.

She knows in her heart that he is The one.

And maybe that’s why she is so fucking terrified of him leaving, because what if he never comes back to her?

She’s not sure she’s going to be able to handle it.

So when she told him she wasn’t sure if she could be with him anymore she did it so she could leave first, but then he looked at her like she had just crushed his entire soul. After spending every night for the last couple weeks replaying the moment over and over again in her head she realises she won’t ever be able to leave him. She doesn’t want to.

And now he is coming back again, after spending two weeks back home in Holmes Chapel with his family to clear his head and two weeks down under in Australia doing what he loves most, and she is still terrified. Because he might show up and tell her he’s had enough of her games and leave with her heart.

She takes that Tuesday off from work and cleans her entire flat, anxiously waiting for Harry to show up. He texted her earlier to let her know he would arrive in London by noon and would be coming over, to which she only replied an ‘okay’ because she was overthinking and didn’t know what else to say.

They never officially said the words “we are over” so she has no idea if they were still together or broken up, and she didn’t want to say something that could be misinterpreted in any way.

Then she gets another text from him asking her if she could come over to him instead because he is too jet lagged and wants to just go home and have a shower. And she convinces herself it’s only an excuse from him. An excuse to get her to come over and get all her stuff she has left laying around his house the last year, so he can remove any traces of her ever being in his life.

She still tells him she’ll be there in an hour.

That hour ends up being one of the worst hours of her life. She’s an anxious mess as she tries to get ready and ends up spilling her coffee all over her shirt and the freshly mopped floor. Her favorite cup with a small dachshund painted on it, the one Harry got her after their first date when she told she was obsessed with dachshunds, falls to the floor and breaks in half. She has a mini breakdown over it all.

She’s also about two seconds away from running over an old lady by the crossroads leading up to Harry’s house.

Then when she arrives at Harry’s house she has forgotten the code to get through his gate. She has another breakdown thinking he has changed it because he doesn’t want her to know what it is anymore.

Turns out she only missed a number.

Before she knows she is knocking on his door and just stands there waiting for him to come let her in. Normally she wouldn’t knock and just waltz right in but it didn’t feel right this time. She isn’t sure if she is even allowed to anymore.

So she waits.

When Harry finally opens the door and she is face to face with him again she feels like she might actually collapse. He looks tired, eyes puffy and cheeks rosy, but he still smiles when he sees her. And even though he has his grey hoodie up she can still see the little hair clip on top of his head that’s holding back his damp curls from falling in his face.

“Hi,” she breathes out and clasps her hands together in front of her because she doesn’t know what else to do. Her heart is beating painfully hard inside her chest.

“Hi,” Harry says and takes a step forward as if he is about to pull her into a hug, but he stops himself and takes a step back again. They stand in silence for what feels like an eternity, just taking each other in, before Harry clears his throat and opens the door a little wider for her. “Come in.”

As she passes him she catches a whiff of his perfume and it’s so familiar and calming that she forgets for a moment that they’ve been in a downward spiral for the last month.

But she is quickly reminded of the situation when Harry awkwardly leads her to the lounge and they sit down on opposite ends of the sofa. Her fingers tremble a little as she pushes a couple strands of hair behind her ear. The room is quiet and cold. The whole house smells like detergent and soap, it always did when he hadn’t been home for a while, and she hates it.

“So, um, how was Australia?” she asks, keeping her eyes on the bright colorful painting that hangs on the wall above Harry’s head and avoiding his green ones that are staring her down. She’s positive he can hear how fast her heart is beating.

“It was alright,” Harry answers and tilts his head forward a little, brows drawn together, as he tries to get her to focus on him rather than the painting behind him.

“Good,” she mumbles and takes a shaky breath, still avoiding his eyes. Harry sighs deeply and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat. This isn’t like them. Far from. She wants to crawl into his arms; wants to feel the comfort and safety he always brings her when he holds her. Her whole body is screaming for his touch again, but her head stops her - what if he didn’t want to hold her anymore?

“We can’t go on like this,” he tells her then and her blood instantly runs cold.

This is it.

Harry is going to tell her he can’t be with her anymore and it’s her own fault. She pushed him away.

“Okay,” she whispers. Tears are already welling up in her eyes and she is quick to blink them away before they fall. But her vision is still blurry. Her throat feels tight and dry. The room is closing on her and she has to wipe her clammy hands on her pants to make sure she’s still in her own body. A huge part of her wants to run, although she is not too sure her legs will carry her. This is what she gets for pushing him away though she supposes.

“I need to know if you’re leaving or not.”

She snaps her head in his direction as soon as the words come out of his mouth.

“What?”

She’s not sure she’s heard him right.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Harry continues and a small curl falls out of his little hair clip as he shakes his head. “I need answers from you. These past few weeks - I can’t... I need to know where we stand. I need to know if I’ve lost you.”

She blinks.

“Harry, I-“ She can't find her words. She had been so sure that he was going to tell her he was leaving her, that he was tired of her selfishness and wanted nothing more to do with her. Now her whole body is frozen as her mind tries to catch up with what Harry just told her. He looks worn out, sad, and she feels so incredibly stupid. Guilty. This mess is all her fault. “No.”

Harry inhales sharply through his nose and gives her a short nod.

“Alright.” His lips are pressed together, jaw tense, as he averts his gaze to something other than her face, refusing to look at her any longer.

“No Harry, I mean, you haven’t,” she is quick to say when she realises he had misunderstood her words. Her head is spinning. There is so much she needs to say but she doesn’t even know where to start. “You haven’t lost me. I didn’t think- I thought you were leaving me.”

“What?”

And just like that it’s all just too much. The last couple weeks washes over her as soon Harry looks at her again and she notices how glossy his eyes are. She’s overwhelmed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry H,” she cries and hides her face in her hands, finally letting her tears spill over and run hot down her cheeks. “I’ve been so fucking stupid.”

She lets a sob rip from her throat and buries her face deeper into her hands, wishing she could just disappear. Guilt is eating away at her conscience knowing that Harry had walked around thinking she was leaving him while having to go out on stage and put on a good show for thousands of fans. She should’ve talked to him before he left. She should’ve replied to his texts. She feels like the worst fucking person in the entire world.

“Heey, noo, don’t cry.” Harry moves over to crouch down in front of her. His touch burns through the thick denim of her jeans when he puts his arms down on either side of her on the sofa, his thumbs rubbing small circles on her thighs. “Talk to me, Love.”

“I’m so stupid,” she repeats.

“You’re not,” Harry says softly and gently pushes some of her hair away from her face, tapping her fingers lightly to get her to get her to remove her hands from her face and look at him again. When she peeks at him through her fingers she’s met by his small dimple. He takes the opportunity to carefully pry her hands away completely and holds them in his own. “There we go,” he murmurs. “S’just me. You can talk to me.”

“I’m scared,” she admits and runs her fingers over his rings. Harry frowns but doesn’t say anything, just lets her take her time to gather her scattered mind. It’s hard though when he is finally so close again and all she can think about is how good he smells and how familiar and soothing it is to have his hand in hers again. “I don’t know - I guess I just worry that you’ll get tired of me or feel like I’m just holding you back or that you’ll meet someone much more exciting than me while you’re away. I’m terrified that you’re going to wake up one day and realise I’m just some loser who lives a boring life that you actually have no interest of being a part of... And I don’t think my heart could take it.” Her voice cracks with the last part.

Harry holds her hand a little tighter in his.

“I don’t think my heart could take it either,” he tells her.

And even though he is right in front of her, holding her hands in his, she can’t stop the feeling of hopelessness coming over her again. She doesn’t want to lose him. Refuses to be the one who leaves.

But he is going away again soon and she doesn’t know what she is supposed to do when he does. The issues of her feeling alone and insecure are still going to be there, and what happens then? Is she going to put them both through another tortures couple weeks again, where neither of them know where they stand? She can’t do that to him.

“Do you think we can make it work?” she asks him and presses her lips together to stop herself from letting another sob escape her.

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully and swallows hard. “But isn’t that part of it? Not knowing. Life is far too short to worry about what might happen in the future. There is alway going to be some bad and some good. The only thing I know for certain right here, right now, is that I love you and that I want to be with you. I don’t want anyone else.”

“Neither do I.”

Harry smiles.

“Okay then,” he says softly and moves himself a little closer to her. “Maybe we can just leave it like that then? And we’ll just figure it out as we go.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”

There's a moment of silence and she wants to stay in that moment forever. Just the two of them. It’s all she wants. Always. To just be with him.

And when Harry stands up and simultaneously pulls her with him she falls into his arms. His body is so warm against hers and as he grabs her chin and tilts her head back so he can press his soft lips to hers she knows that things will work out between them.

She loves him too much to not at least fight for it.

It will by no means be easy and she knows that when he leaves again in a couple weeks that he is going to take a piece of her heart with him.

But she also knows that she has a piece of his heart with her at all times, and that knowledge fills the small void inside her chest for many years to come.

Let me know what you think! <3

#Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry Styles fanfic #Harry Styles oneshot #Harry Styles angst #Harry Styles fluff #requested

227 notes · View notes