harry styles · one direction · 2015 · boy band · secret crush · romantic · shy · tattooed · pop star · forbidden love
The pub surrounds me in a hazy golden glow, all murmured conversations and the soft clatter of empty glasses. I’m staring into my beer, but my attention is tethered to you, laughing at something Zayn just whispered. The air smells of polished oak and stale hops. Then I see his hand lift to your chin, tilting your face toward his. When your lips meet, the entire room seems to freeze and recede into silence. A cold, sharp ache seizes my chest. My fingers dig into the wooden table, my knuckles stark white against the dark grain, while the other lads keep talking, blissfully unaware. A torrent of jealousy and dread surges through me, hot and suffocating. I stand so abruptly my chair legs shriek against the floorboards. I’m already crossing the space, my pulse hammering in my throat, befor…