in which... y/n is just trying to put on eyeliner and harry is bored
a/n: hi! so here it is, my first piece! i really do hope you enjoy, and if not, send me feedback and iâll see what i can do to improve! other than that, sit back, relax, and enjoy some best friend harry! oh and also, sorry for the downer! :( let me know if you want a part two?
pairing: best friend! harry styles x reader
summary: Y/nâs trying to get ready for a date, but her best friend Harry wants her to stay home and watch a movie.
warnings: angst
word count: 1,828 words (whoo hoo! all in one writing session of two hours!)
part two here
Y/n had had enough.
It had been a gruelling half an hour and here she was, still sat on the floor, her ass sore as she stared into the mirror and brought the damned eyeliner back to her eye. She was frustrated enough at her lack of ability to apply the stupid makeup, but having an eager 26 year old man-child who is also a famous singer bounding off the walls and shaking the ground like there was a category 10 earthquake? Safe to say, it put a dent in her efforts to create the perfect wing. âHarold Edward Styles, I swear to God, if you do not stop, I will throw you out, tweet your location and watch every fan in this state swarm you.â
He bellyflopped onto her bed lengthways and scooted his way to the edge until he was facing her, elbows up, face in hands. âItâs not my bloody fault you decided to invite me over to watch you draw on your face for hours, you tosser!â She didnât dare to look at him, but she could hear the shit-eating grin he possessed in his voice. The audacity he had to blame this on her... he had some real fucking nerve.
âInvite you? Harry, I never invited you over! I told you I was going out and you said and I quote: âY/n, stay at your house, Iâll be there in tenâ and when I said that I wasnât going to be home for long, you sent me a smiley emoji and just showed up at my doorstep!â Yes, she could hear the whiny tone in her voice, and yes, she knew it wasnât very attractive, but who was she trying to impress? Harry? No, he was definitely not into her, and if he was, he did a pisspoor job of showing her affection in a way that didnât make her feel like she was his younger sister. What with all of the ruffling of her hair whenever he walked by, the teasing, name calling, and if that didnât do it, the introductions he would give guests when they arrived at his studio when you were over that consisted of, âOh, this is my best friend, Y/n. Sheâs here to make sure I donât spend all of my time in here wanking instead of actually writing.â It always got a laugh, and an eye roll from her, but inside, she was cringing. Thatâs all she was there for, to be a huge cockblock for him.
She had always romanticised the idea of Harry. For a while, she thought that she was just deprived of an intimate relationship, and in return, began to see her best friendâs friendly gestures as more. But then she started to realise how much she really cared about him, and when he came to her house, drunk as hell and demanding a cuddle, she was over the moon. She thought she had a chance, but after he began to sob into her shoulder on her double bed about a different woman, she shut down the part of her brain that wanted to curl up and cry too and went into automatic mum mode, listening to him babble for a bit, before calmly shushing him and stroking his hair, urging him to sleep and talk about it in the morning when he was able to actually convey his emotions through proper words instead of the slurring that he had adopted. Once he did fall asleep (which didnât take long, he was pretty tired from his sob session), she thought about how excited she was when he asked for a cuddle. His pouty face, crossed arms and stomping leg as he whined, âLovveeeeeee. Cuddle! Now!â She thought about how disappointed she was when it was a heartbroken cuddle. Thatâs when she realised just how whipped she was for him. Oh God, did she want to be able to call him hers. But she knew that it wasnât worth the loss of the best friendship sheâs ever had to be able to kiss him, as much as she wanted it. She knew that she would rather live a life being Harryâs best friend, listening to him cry over other women than put her heart on the line, get it shattered (as delicately as possible though, she knew he would let her down easily) and throw away her friendship with him. They would become awkward and Harry would stop his friendly gestures in probable fear of sending more mixed messages than he already had. So she locked away the part of her that wanted him badly, and began to move on, leading her to this moment, on her bedroom floor, ass numb, trying to look presentable for a date that arrives in another half an hour, her best friend and secret crush trying to talk her out of it and make her stay at home and watch a movie with him instead.
âOkay, so maybe I showed up a bit unannounced, but only to talk you out of this boring date youâre going to go on with some vanilla guy! Wouldnât you rather stay here, make some buttery ass popcorn and watch Loony Tunes: Back in Action with your best friend?â His offer was tempting, she loved buttery popcorn and a goofy movie with her goofy friend, but going on this date was a step in the right direction, she convinced herself. If she didnât go, she would stay home and continue to fall for her best friend, a famous singer who doesnât like her in a romantic aspect whatsoever.
âNo!â She didnât intend for her voice to be so loud, but she had had it. She was pissed at everyone. At Harry for being so damn pushy and not understanding how annoying heâs being, at herself for falling for her best friend, and at her makeup company of choice, who decided to pump out this very expensive eyeliner, work wonders for the people on their advertisements and then decide not to work seemingly just to fuck over Y/n. âFor the last time, Harry: I am going on this date and I am going to enjoy it! You, on the other hand, are going to be a supportive friend and stop acting like a child! I always hype you up for dates, so why canât you stop being a dickhead and care about my feelings for once!â She threw the eyeliner down and stormed out of the room before locking herself in her bathroom, Harry calling after her. She didnât feel so good anymore.
The apartment was quiet. You could hear a pin drop. Y/n backed up against the door in true main character fashion and sunk to the floor. Yes, maybe she was being cheesy, and maybe she was getting frustrated over nothing, but she had been so overwhelmed by her feelings for so long, and her best friend being unsupportive of her when she was trying to forget about him was not very helpful to say the least. She heard footsteps that grew louder as they grew closer before they stopped right outside her door. She heard a thud against the door, no doubt that being his head against the wood. He always did that. She heard a deep sigh from the other side of the barrier. âY/n... please come out...â His voice, though soft and deep, bounded off the walls none of the less. Y/n didnât know why, but she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, her throat forming a lump. Stupid feelings. Why did this have to be so hard? Why was she cursed with such bad luck? Out of all of the people she couldâve become infatuated with, she just had to fall for her best friend. The tears began to roll down and she began to sniffle.
âShit... Y/n... Please donât cry. Come out, we can talk about it. Iâm sorry... Fuck, Iâm so sorry. Just please donât cry. Hate when you cry.â His Northern accent was thick and heavy, it got like that when he was sad. He didnât know why she was so upset, he was only teasing, but it was obviously enough to strike a nerve in her. He knows he shouldnât of pushed her around, he should have noticed how on edge she was. He shouldâve asked her whatâs wrong, instead of be selfish and ask for a night in after a long day. He wouldnât say this out loud, but after a depressing day in the studio, he was a little bummed to hear that Y/n was going out. He was looking forward to a night in with her to just chill out and laugh. Maybe cuddle if he was brave enough to ask? But here he was, head against the door, listening to his best friend cry over something that he did. It hurt his heart, to say the least, and every time she let out another little sniffle, the knife drove deeper into him, his hands twitching to hold her and wipe away the tears. He fucked up, and doesnât know what to do. It was so out of character of Y/n to cry and snap so quickly, she was a thick skinned, and in fact, he was the one who often cried more out of the two, especially when he was drunk, which Y/n didnât do all that often. So to hear her so upset and not able to hold her till she felt better made him feel useless. And to further drive him into this hole, her small voice cracked as she whimpered a small word which hurt him to the max.
âLeave.â
Tears began to well up in his own eyes in confusion and sadness. Why wasnât she talking to him? She never got like this, they always talked out their problems (which were rare). He would give up all of his fame and money if he could hear her thoughts and know what was running though her pretty head- if he could know how to fix what he had done. âY/n... Please. Come out.â His voice cracked. âWe can talk this out, please just come out. I am so sorry, Bug. Please open the door.â
Her small voice returned. âHarry, leave...â
He was getting desperate now. All he wanted was for her to open the door, now. So he could see her, see how she was feeling. He needed to make this right. âLove, open the door and Iâll leave...â He needed to know if she actually wanted him to leave. His heart fell as he heard shuffling before the door creaked open and behind, a tears eyed Y/n. She doesnât make eye contact as she mumbles a final plea. âHarry, please leave.â
âLove, I-â
âHarry, leave... Nowâ
He takes one last look at her, before mumbling another heartfelt apology, before leaving with his heart torn to shreds.
