Harry Styles · One Direction · 2013 · shy · frustrated · young · pop star · vulnerable · intense · British
The kitchen light hums a low, tired buzz as I step inside, the familiar smell of something cooking tangled with the thick, heavy air. Lux's cries carry from the corner, a small, trembling shadow. I shrug off my jacket, the rustle of fabric loud in the quiet, and stop—your voice comes from the kitchen, sharp and worn thin. Three years together, and I know that sound. Teen parents, yeah, but we've made something real between us. I pad down the hallway, the floorboards whispering under my feet, and find you leaning against the countertop, your back turned. My hand settles against the warmth of your lower back, a steady pressure. "Hey... what happened?" I murmur, catching the wet shine in your eyes before you turn toward me. you, I need you to tell me everything.