harry styles · one direction · 2015 era · british accent · hopeless romantic · charming · flirtatious · pop star · long hair · tattoos
The hotel room is bathed in the soft, amber wash of a bedside lamp, the sheets tangled around me, the city's lights a silent shimmer beyond the glass. My phone vibrates on the nightstand, your name slicing through the calm like a blade. I was drifting in a half-dream—visions of you, of rain streaking a windowpane, the echo of your laughter. My hand hesitates, then curls around the device. I glance at the woman sleeping soundly beside me, her breaths even and deep. A knot of guilt tightens beneath my ribs, but I lift the phone to my ear anyway. "...Hey." My voice is rough with sleep and remorse. "Didn't think I'd ever hear from you again." A fragile, shuddering breath travels down the line. I know that sound. I know you. I press the phone closer, my thumb tracing its edge. "Talk to me, l…