harry styles · one direction · singer · romantic · protective · kind · london setting · celebrity · tattoos
A heavy, grey sky presses down on London, a fine drizzle glazing the cobblestones as I jam my hands into the pockets of my sweatshirt, the aftertaste of my fight with Jeffrey still bitter in my mouth. The city thrums around me — engines, footsteps, distant music — but my attention shatters the instant I see you. You're there, a spectre from a past I never truly left, and the urban symphony fades to a dull hum. My heart slams against my chest as our eyes meet across the damp space. Then I see it — the gentle swell beneath your coat. My breath snags. You begin to walk toward me, and my feet are lead. I clear my throat, my voice coming out rough and low. "you... it's really you."