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What the title says. Also, there are puppies in this one.
“(Y/N)… We need to chat.”
Harry Styles, your best friend of five years, pulls you to the side. His hand is resting on your forearm, his bright eyes are locked on yours.
It’s a hot summer’s day and you’re both volunteering at the local animal shelter. You and Harry have been taking the stray dogs for walks all day, coming up with outrageous names for them and laughing together. It’s nice to catch up with him, you think to yourself.
Well, it was nice. Now, it’s a little bit daunting.
You’ve been in love with Harry for a little while now. It started off as something small but quickly grew. You don’t know where the feelings came from or how to get rid of them. And now… He wants to chat?
What if he knows how you feel and he wants to confront you about it?
His soul-searching gaze is too much. You feel like he can read your mind.
You avert your eyes. “What’s up, Harry?” You fake nonchalance.
“I… er, I don’t know.” His response is ineloquent and abrupt.
“You… You don’t know?” You smile, trying to keep your tone light and teasing. “There must be something… I mean, you just pulled me aside. What’s the matter? You can talk to me, you know.”
You glance up and your breath catches in your chest for a moment. He’s biting his lower lip – it looks like he’s nervous about something. You’re his best friend – you’ve seen him nervous and jittery before, even when others haven’t. You’ve seen him cry, laugh, dance and sing…
“(Y/N),” he begins, “I-”
“Harry! (Y/N)!” A voice echoes through the animal shelter. “Have you guys finished washing the dogs? They need to go back soon, it’s getting late.”
Harry’s eyes are wide with shock. “Er,” he shrugs, “I guess we should take the puppies back, eh?”
You smile but you can feel your heart in your throat. What was he going to tell you? You feel like you’ll combust if you don’t find out. It seemed important.
Harry grins and gestures for you to go ahead of him. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
***
2 years later
***
You sit in a restaurant with Harry, trying to get used to the man sitting in front of you. It’s been a few months since you’ve seen him in the flesh – a few years since you’ve actually sat down and talked about proper stuff with him. He’s changed physically but he’s still the same boy you knew when you were young.
“(Y/N), I feel like it’s been decades since I’ve actually spoken to you. We talk all the time on Skype but-”
“It’s so not the same.” You agree. “I miss seeing your ugly face.”
He mock-gasps. “Ugly? I’m adorable.”
“Only on days ending with Y,” you reply, smirking.
Harry chuckles and accidentally nudges your foot with his. You don’t say anything about it and he doesn’t move his leg from where it rests against yours.
“I’ve been thinking about when we were younger,” you say, taking a sip of water from the glass on the table, “and I mean… This is surreal, Harry.” You gesture around the fancy restaurant. When Harry told you he was taking you out for dinner to catch up, you were worried you’d be under-dressed.
“I usually don’t come to these places.” He runs a hand through his brown curls.
You smile. “I don’t mind it here.”
“I do.” He answers, smiling drily. “It’s nice, though. I like taking mum and Gemma to fancy places.”
“But,” you read between the lines, “you miss the old hangouts, don’t you?”
He nods silently.
You lean forward and squeeze his hand. “Why don’t we go for a walk, then? Get out of this fancy joint.”
“That sounds a bit rebellious.” Harry remarks. His eyes are wide though and he’s genuinely grinning from ear to ear. You’re glad you made the comment to leave this place. It’s not really your kind of venue anyway. Everyone is staring at Harry and whispering, covering their mouths with their hands. Your best friend isn’t some animal in a petting zoo.
You take Harry’s hand and you both leave the place.
***
After pushing through mobs of paparazzi, with Harry’s security in front of you, you both make it out alright.
“Is it always like that?” You ask. You’re trying to keep the atmosphere positive but you feel a little bit nauseous after all the flashing lights from the cameras.
Harry smiles serenely. “I don’t mind it, really. I love my fans.” He’s so genuine. You can tell he truly believes it.
You don’t realise you’re blushing until Harry chuckles and points it out.
“Oh, shut up,” you lightly shove his arm, “I’m just warm.”
“It’s okay, I think it’s nice.” He smiles. “It suits you.”
“Harry,” you laugh and roll your eyes, “it’s not supposed to suit me.”
Harry shrugs. “Well I’m sorry but it suits you. I can’t lie.”
You purse your lips to hide an amused smile.
Harry’s security guards are in front of you both but they’re a fair distance away. You look up at the night sky, which is full of stars, as you walk. When you look back to Harry, you realise he’s been staring at you all along.
“Harry,” you say quietly, “I’ve been thinking about when we were younger.”
“Oh?” He prompts, quirking an eyebrow. “What about us?”
“Remember… Remember when we were working at the animal shelter a few years ago, before you auditioned for X-Factor and everything? And we had just finished washing the dogs and… You pulled me to the side. To tell me something.” You smile cheekily, though inside you feel insecure. “You choked.”
“I didn’t choke,” Harry interrupts, “I was rudely cut off. But anyway, (Y/N), yeah. I remember that day.”
Harry is grinning and studying your face.
You try to fight the blush from rising back to your cheeks. You look away momentarily and continue speaking. “Anyway, Harry, I just… Do you remember what you were going to tell me?”
Harry’s smile disappears and he frowns slightly. “Is it… Is it important?”
“No,” you quickly shrug, “I mean, I was just curious. I just wanted to know… What you…” you trail off. “I just need to know, Harry.” Your voice is softer now.
He takes a step forward, closer to you. It’s like deja-vu, or a flashback to that day in the animal shelter. He even touches your forearm with his hand again, though this time his touch is feather-light.
“Do you even remember? I mean, it was such a long time ago…” You try to laugh it all off. You are suddenly too scared to hear the answer. What if it had been a rejection? What if it had been Harry – lovely, nice Harry – trying to let you down carefully and kindly, all those years ago?
“I remember.” He answers slowly. “I used to think about that day a lot.”
“Really?” Your heart is beating hard in your ribcage but you force a smile. “Why?”
“(Y/N),” Harry begins, “I wanted to tell you that-” His phone rings at that moment. Harry swears and shakes his head. “I don’t have to answer it. I don’t have to-”
But the spell is broken. You take a step back and grin, even though your heart is breaking. “It’s okay Harry, answer the phone. I’m sure you can tell me later or something, right?”
He shakes his head but his phone is still ringing. The sound makes your head hurt.
Eventually Harry picks up.
You take his momentary distraction as an opportunity to turn around and walk away.
***
The next morning, you’re asleep in bed when you hear your phone vibrate. The sound wakes you up and you fumble for your phone. You glare at the screen, rubbing your eyes before reading: 5 missed calls. All from Harry.
You run a hand through your hair and chew your lower lip. You don’t want to sacrifice your best friend for one little misunderstanding. You swipe to call Harry.
The phone rings three times and then an unexpected voice answers the phone. It’s Louis, one of Harry’s band mates. You’ve spoken with him briefly in the past, though you’ve never met him face to face.
“Hi, Louis, it’s (Y/N) here.” You sigh. “Er… Is Harry around?”
“He left the hotel a while ago, not sure where he went.” Louis answers casually. “Must have been in a rush if he left his phone here.”
You hum in agreement. “Yeah, that’s unlike him.”
“He was in a foul mood last night,” Louis remarks, tone changing from casual to intrigued, “any idea why?”
You sigh. “I have an idea but… No proof.”
“Hmmm,” Louis answers, “I have a feeling proof might be on his way.”
What? You shake your head. What is Louis even talking about? “Okay,” you answer, “give me a call if you find him.”
“Right back at you, (Y/N).” Louis answers.
You press the ‘end call’ button and place your phone on your bed. You watch the screen for a moment, waiting for a call you know you won’t receive. It’s too late, you know it is. You can still be his best friend but you can’t be anything more than that, not now.
Not that he even wanted… Well, you can’t know for sure… You just wish that he had finished that sentence. You wish that there were no interruptions, that you could travel back in time and take his phone from his hand and throw it on the ground and-
Okay. Maybe not that dramatically. But you wish you could have changed it.
Now you’re stuck in a rut. You’re in love with your best friend and even if he feels the same way, he’s a famous singer and you’re just… You. He’ll always have other commitments. He’ll always need to prioritise other things. It would be Skype dates and brief meet-ups in hotels. It would be phone calls late at night and early morning texts.
It wouldn’t be ‘normal’.
You’re pondering all of this in your pyjamas when you hear a sharp knock at the door. You frown. Part of you wants it to be Harry but the other part of you knows it couldn’t be….
Could it?
You peer through the peephole on your front door and can’t help but smile. It’s Harry, looking slightly nervous, standing outside your door. You hastily pull the door open and smile. “Harry,” you say, “what are you doing here?”
He returns your smile. “I came to apologise.”
“Oh,” you scoff and roll your eyes, “there’s no need-”
“(Y/N).” Harry says simply. “You don’t need to shrug it off.”
Your smile fades. You can feel it slip from the corners of your lips. “Shrug what off?” You say, but your tone is indicative. You know what he’s talking about. You’ve been shrugging it off for so long. You know you have, you’ve always been like that. You think if you treat it like a joke the pain will be distanced from you.
You were wrong. Treating it all like some big misunderstanding didn’t help you with the pain. Even know, you feel so much sadness and regret… You misjudged it.
“Do you really not know?” Harry asks. His voice is soft and sincere. “I thought… I thought you knew two years ago. I know I didn’t exactly say it but… I thought you might have-”
“Harry, you don’t have to do this.”
Harry frowns. “I know I don’t have to. Do you… Do you think you have to? I mean, (Y/N), if you don’t want to date me, just say that you don’t… Oh god.” Harry presses a hand to his forehead. “I misread this whole situation, didn’t I? I thought… I thought you fancied me back. Oh god. I was wrong, wasn’t I?” He swears loudly and shakes his head. “(Y/N) I am so sorry-”
“No, Harry,” you sigh, “I… I’ve been in love with you for a long time.” Harry’s mouth gapes open. You purse your lips and gaze into Harry’s eyes before continuing. “I thought you only saw me as your best mate. I thought you just wanted to be friends. And then I guess I sort of realised but I was so ready to not even try. How would this relationship work? You travel all the time, you hardly ever visit.”
Harry makes a sound like he wants to protest. You hold a finger to his mouth. “Wait. I mean, that’s what I thought. Past tense. Because Harry, when I saw you standing at my front door before, I realised… I don’t care-”
Harry raises an eyebrow. “You don’t care?”
“Hush,” you murmur, “wait. I don’t care if I only get to hear your voice sometimes, or if our Skype calls last for ten minutes. I don’t care if I go for a few days without hearing from you because, in my heart, you’re there.”
Harry blinks twice, very slowly, and then a small smile spreads across his lips. “(Y/N). I never took you for a poet.” His tone is so sincere and almost reverent.
You allow yourself to laugh and it bubbles out of you, making you sound giddy. Harry joins in and you’re both laughing and then he moves forward, holding your face in his hands.
“(Y/N), I-”
Your phone starts to ring from the bedroom. It’s loud and annoying and-
“No,” Harry shakes his head, “not again. No. I’m saying it this time.” The phone continues to ring but Harry takes your hand in his. You let him. You don’t hold back and you don’t shrug it off. Your feelings are not a joke anymore.
“(Y/N), I love you.”
He pecks you on the lips and when he pulls away you smile.
“Also, those pyjamas are so elegant,” he whispers, “I really like the flannelette look-”
You smirk and shove him lightly on the arm. “Hey, you. None of that.”
“None of what?” He smiles sweetly. You want to kiss him again, so you do.
The phone keeps ringing. You don’t let go of Harry’s hand.
You and Niall are curled up in bed together, watching re-runs of some comedy show, when Niall sniffles. You frown slightly but continue watching the show. Niall sniffles again and then, suddenly, jerks himself forward and starts coughing. The cough is chesty. It doesn’t sound good.
“Niall, is everything alright?” You ask, rubbing circles on his back soothingly.
He nods. “I’m fine,” he croaks, “just a cough I think-” he coughs again, this time for longer.
You shake your head. “You’re not fine. We should see a doctor-”
“(Y/N), I swear, I’m fine!” He tries to grin but it comes across as a grimace. “No worries, yeah? Let’s just watch telly, babe.”
Three hours later, he loses his voice.
“Niall,” you sigh, “I think you need some cough syrup. I’ll run down to the shops.”
“Babe,” he whispers, “don’t worry-” his voice breaks on the word and he doubles over again, heaving and spluttering.
You bite your lower lip. You’re really worried – he doesn’t sound good at all – but you know that if you tell him how worried you are, it’ll make him anxious. Instead, you squeeze his hand and kiss his forehead.
He’s running a temperature.
“Babe, lie down,” you instruct him, “and I’ll call a doctor.”
The most worrisome thing is that this time he listens to you; he doesn’t try to act tough anymore.
***
“Yeah, he’s running a temperature…” you sigh on the phone. “I’ve given him paracetamol and it seems to be helping but the cough is so…”
“See if he can sleep it off,” the doctor suggests. Her voice is soothing; it makes you feel at ease. “If he’s still like that in the morning, bring him in to the practice.”
“Thank you so much,” you murmur, “I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“Remember to keep rested yourself!” The doctor replies. “We don’t want two patients on our hands now, do we?”
You smile and say goodbye before pressing the ‘end call’ button on your phone. You sigh and set your phone on the bedside table. It’s going to be a long night, you can already tell.
An hour or so later, Niall stirs and sits up in bed. “(Y/N)? Where are you?”
“I’m here, Niall,” you sigh, “what’s wrong?”
“There are dolphins. Giant… Giant dolphins.” Niall slurs. “Why are there… (Y/N), where do they come from?”
You stifle a laugh. “Babe, it’s just a dream. Go back to sleep.”
“Are we at the… beach?” Niall smiles dreamily.
You cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from giggling. “Er, yeah. Sure.” You answer. “We’re at the beach, Niall.”
“Okay.” He whispers, then lowers himself back to the bed.
You hear him snoring a few minutes later and finally allow yourself to laugh out loud.
***
“(Y/N)…. Wake up…”
You feel a hand squeezing your shoulder and you open your eyes which are adjusting to the morning light. The curtains are open and you’re in bed next to Niall… You don’t remember moving from the sofa near the bed but you must have crawled into bed with him sometime during the night.
“Niall, how are you?” You reach out a hand and cup his cheek.
He leans into the touch and smiles. He looks sleepy but also a lot healthier than he did before. “Better, I think. But the voice is still croaky.”
You smile and shake your head. “I was worried about you.”
“I’m sorry.” Niall murmurs. “I didn’t mean to make you worried-”
“Don’t be silly, Niall.” You quip. “I’m sure I’ll get sick one day and then you’ll have to take care of me-”
Niall widens his eyes. “Don’t jinx yourself.”
You scoff. “Oh, come on, Niall. I’m not going to get sick. I’ll be fine.”
Niall raises an eyebrow but doesn’t reply.
“I still think you should see that doctor,” you say, “she might be able to help you get better.”
Niall nods. “You’re right. I was just being stubborn before. I’ll give her a call or something.”
You kiss Niall on the cheek and he sighs contentedly. His voice is still wrecked from the coughing but he does seem to be getting better.
***
A few days later, once Niall’s made a speedy recovery, you’re both getting dressed for an event. He’s adjusting the bow tie around the collar of his crisp white shirt. You’re sitting on the bed, already dressed, admiring his tuxedo.
You feel more tired than usual but other than that, you’re fine.
Later that night, while you’re both walking the red carpet with the press and paparazzi on either side, you cough. Niall eyes you knowingly.
“Feeling alright, (Y/N)?” He asks quietly. “We can leave early if you want-”
“I’m fine.” You answer stubbornly.
When you both get home, you curl up in bed without getting changed. Niall shakes his head and cards his fingers through your hair. “I’m calling Dr. Myers.”
You glance at Niall and nod sheepishly. “Probably a good idea.” You murmur.
Niall leans forward and kisses your forehead. “I’m getting you a glass of water – I’ll be right back.”
A/N: omg hey it's Autumn. I haven't done this in so long since Serena's been writing the oneshots. Hope this will suffice though. Also, this is a university (library) AU, where Harry's a uni student.
Member: Harry
Request notes: "my name is luke can i get a fluffy oneshot with harry styles"
The lecturer kept drawling on about god knows what in his monotone voice. The couple sitting in front of him weren't helping either with their giggling and whispering. Luke gently kicked the back of their seat, hoping they would take a clue. But in such a subtle manner that if they turned around looking annoyed, he could pass it off as an accident.
They didn't stop.
The class fell silent as the lecturer addressed a question to them. Something about game theory and hypothetical situations. Luke turned back to his laptop, pretending to be busy typing up notes. However, the lecturer didn't seem to buy this.
"You there, in the grey shirt, who has the dominant strategy?"
Luke looked up, slightly taken a back. "Me?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed, looking around to make sure he was the one being asked. "Oh ummm...well ummm I'm not sur-"
"Company A would have the dominant strategy over Company B." a husky voice spoke out.
The lecturer motioned for him to elaborate, and all heads turned to the student.
"Company B's decision whether to advertise or not doesn't affect..." he continued. Luke looked at the guy, who was sitting several seats to the left of him. By the state of his unruly hair and the two coffee cups beside his feet, Luke assumed that he had thrown on a jumper and some skinny jeans without a second thought. But he looked so effortlessly stylish.
Maybe it was the way he ran his hands through his curly hair as strands fell on to his face, or maybe it was the way he would take a few seconds to ponder between his sentences, probably formulating and structuring the words in his heads before enunciating them. It could also be because he saved him from embarrassing himself in front of the class. Whatever it was, there was definitely something alluring about him, and Luke couldn't help but glance at him from time to time.
"Sorry, what was your name?" the lecturer asked.
"Oh umm Harry" the boy replied.
Luke continued looking at him, as the lecturer expanded on the concept. The boy turned towards him and Luke mouthed a 'thank you' to which he replied with an easy smile.
The rest of the lecture was spent making a mental pros and cons list on whether he should approach Harry after class. Unfortunately, by the time Luke had racked up enough courage, the boy had left the room.
--------------------------
The library was packed, which was expected since the dreaded finals were nearing. Students had their heads buried in books heavy enough to break a neck with a single tap, and others were sleeping in awkward positions that could not be at all comfortable.
Luke approached the check-out desk, after not being able to find the textbook he was after on the bookshelves.
"Hi there. I'm looking for the prescribed textbook for Microeconomics." Luke explained, too busy rummaging through his backpack to notice the library worker. "It said online that there's one copy available but I couldn't fi-...oh" he stopped, recognising that slightly disheveled brown hair and warm smile.
"Harry, right? Thanks for saving me earlier." Luke stated gratefully, introducing himself.
"No worries. The lecturer can be kind of a jerk at times." Harry chuckled, "And I have the book you're looking for somewhere there." he answered, pointing at the bookshelves behind the desk. He crouched down, skimming through the rows of books trying to find it. "We had some new books arrive so we didn't have time to place the returned books back to their shelves." he explained to Luke.
"That's fine" Luke replied, nodding in understanding. "So why are you working in the library, if you don't mind me asking"
Harry gently laughed in reply, turning slightly to face Luke from his crouched position. "Started off as a summer job. You know, just to be productive over the holidays. I was a bit reluctant at first." Harry explained, turning back to look for the book. "It was a bit weird, being on campus more than necessary, but then I started enjoying working here and I just decided to keep the job. Ah! Found it." Harry exclaimed, holding and waving the textbook in front of him.
"It'd be so convenient to work on campus." Luke replied, handing Harry his student card. "I used to work an hour away from campus and it was always such a trek to get there. I ended up quitting because it was interfering with uni work."
"On campus has it's perks" Harry smiled. "There's a job opening here if you're interested."
"Yeah? Maybe. I'll see how the rest of this semester works out." Luke responded. "Thanks for your help with that" he chuckled, gesturing at the textbook as Harry handed it to him.
"It's no problem. It's my job after all"
"I'll see you around." Luke waved at Harry, "If not, I'll see you at the lecture."
------------------
"Urgh" Luke groaned, falling back on his bed as he looked at the clock. 10:30pm. Just enough time to go through the readings and catch up. He stood up and walked over to his bag, pulling out the microeconomics textbook. Something fell out as he opened the textbook. It was the receipt. Thinking that he might need it in the future, Luke picked it up from the ground, but noticed some handwriting written in black pen at the back of the receipt.
"Hey Luke, it was great meeting you today. Maybe we can have coffee or lunch together one day. Or we can study for micro. Love, Harry."
He signed off with a smiley face and his phone number at the bottom. Luke smiled and neatly folded the receipt in half, placing it in his wallet. He would call Harry tomorrow.
