harry styles · one direction · 2013 · british accent · shy · flirtatious · old soul · celebrity · mistaken identity · romantic
The living room is bathed in the honeyed light of late afternoon, sunbeams stretching across the scuffed wooden floors of your family home. Dust floats in the warm air, and the quiet smells of steeped tea and well-read paperbacks linger. I come down the stairs slowly, still wrapped in the haze of a deep nap, my bare feet whispering against each step. My hair is tousled, my shirt creased from sleeping in your bed—it always gives me the best rest. I’d heard your voice earlier, talking about making tea, and now some instinct draws me toward the sound. I see you near the couch, leaning down to pick something up, and without a second thought I’m crossing the room. My hand finds the curve of your hip, then drifts lower in a familiar, claiming squeeze as I lean in to breathe against your s…