Random Harry Styles Short Stories || Completed!

Little White Lie || Part 1

{Warning: sexual harassment}

It was somewhere in Asia.

You had accompanied Harry on this leg of his world tour for the sole purpose of seeing this part of the world. After you had moved in with Harry in his house in London, you rarely got the chance to travel to the other side of the globe.

You took this opportunity to travel, but that wasn't the main reason. The truth was that you really missed your boyfriend.

"Baby," his lips immediately curl up into a smile as you walk through his dressing room door. Harry was all dressed up in one of his many custom-made suits, drinking some weird herbal concoction to soothe his throat. "I thought you were going to crash first at the hotel."

Surrendering your bags by the sofa, you practically run right into his arms as you take in his familiar scent. Harry's fingers dig deeply into the small of your back as you feel them shake a little. "God," he breathes as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, "I've missed you so much."

"I was going to go to the hotel first," you murmur into his shoulder, your weight still evenly distributed among the tips of your toes. When did he get so tall? You blamed your jetlag. "But I just couldn't wait."

Harry pulls away with you with a frown, walking the both of you to the corner of the room and away from where the members of his band were warming up. "I love that you've come, don't get me wrong," he starts, "but I can't keep you company."

You immediately try to squash his apprehensions. Smiling at his concern, you say, "Don't worry about me, Haz. I have all my clothes here and I'm just going to go take a shower in the bathroom that you've got here and maybe take a little nap or something."

Harry presses a kiss to the side of your head and mumbles, "Are you sure?"

"Positive." You return the affection by planting two firm kisses on his cheeks that make him grin. "I promise."

"And you're not lying to me?"

You let out a light-hearted laugh as you reply, "And why would I? I could never lie to you because you see right through me."

His eyes crinkle a little bit at the sides as somebody knocks on the door and yells, "You're on in 2!"

Harry cradles your face in his hands and you are just getting used to the cold silver rings on the delicate skin of your cheeks when he pulls away reluctantly to say, "I gotta go, love. But take care of yourself, okay?" He's halfway out the door with his guitar strapped across his chest as he calls back, "Make sure to get some rest, yeah?"

"I will," you promise and the last thing you see before the door closes are his two emerald green eyes flashing toward you like beacons of light to a ship lost at sea.

And then you're all alone.

//

You had just finished taking a shower in the bathroom of Harry's dressing room when the door suddenly opened. A middle-aged man wearing a suit had barged in on you in just your underwear, as you were in the middle of getting changed, and before you could let out a scream, you finally put the pieces together.

He is the host of the show that Harry is currently being featured on. "So sorry to interrupt," the stranger says as he closes the door behind him. You shudder at the sound of it and quickly wrap a towel around yourself. "Is Harry in here?"

His question shocked you–not because it was random in any sense. It was because it was so obvious that you were alone in the room that you deemed his question unnecessary. But still, out of politeness, you answer, "No, he's not. Wasn't he just...?" You were in the shower but had still heard his voice spilling out from the television broadcasting live from the room.

The host smiles sheepishly and runs a hand through his carefully slicked-back hair as he walks over to you. "We have a commercial break right now, and Harry had run off so abruptly that I was going to ask him what was wrong."

This makes you frown. "Oh," you let out, too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice that he was slowly closing the distance between the both of you. "I'm sure there's nothing wrong with him. Maybe if you had asked a tough question or..."

But you don't ever get to finish your sentence because, at that exact moment, the intruder places his hands firmly on your waist. You don't have time to fully process what is happening, but that doesn't stop you from squirming away instantly.

"Excuse me," he's saying, but there are no possible excuses for him to make. And what was worse was that his grip was so strong that in a simple flick of his wrist, he had your chest pressed against his. He yanks your towel off. "You're so fucking hot."

Hot tears threatened to spill out onto your cheeks as his hands roam down your thighs. Before he gets any further, though, you lift a knee to hit him in the groin. You sprint to the bathroom and lock the door behind you.

//

"Y/N? Sweetheart? Are you in there?" Harry's voice breaks you out of your reverie as his knuckles gently pound on the bathroom door. "We can leave to the hotel now if you're ready."

You don't know what to say to him. You were currently curled up in a fetal position on the cold marble of the bathroom floor in just your bra and your panties. "Baby, can you hear me?"

"I'll be done in a sec," you call out, sensing the trepidation in his voice. Scrambling up to your feet, you look around the toilet to see if you could cover yourself up with something. But of course, your clothes were still outside where you had left them.

In your haste to get away from him.

Harry knocks on the door again. "Y/N, are you alright? Can you open the door for me?"

"I'm not dressed," you tell him, honestly. There was no use lying to him about that. You couldn't exit the room otherwise, and you really wanted nothing more than to head back to the hotel with Harry and curl up safely in his arms.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and can't help but let out a small gasp. The man's grasp on you had managed to leave bruises on your hip bones and waistline. You didn't even notice that he was holding on to you that dangerously.

Everything felt like a quick blur to you. After all, it had been almost a full 24 hours since you had last slept.

"That's okay, it's just me out here. Nothing to worry about." Your boyfriend tries the doorknob again. "Baby–?"

Before he can say another word, you unlock the door with such quickness that Harry almost falls right into the bathroom. You take this opportunity to make a bee-line for where your fallen towel still lies and wrap it quickly around your waist to conceal the marks.

You knew if Harry had seen them, he would absolutely murder the man. And although you wished nothing more to see the love of your life pummel the disgusting creature, you knew that something that public wouldn't escape the media's eyes.

And Harry was supposed to be the innocent one.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Harry tries to wrap his hands around your waist from behind, but you wince when he gets close to you. You busy yourself with tugging on an oversized sweatshirt (one from his merchandise stand, nonetheless). "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," you squeeze out painfully. You grab a pair of jeans from your carry-on and are just about to head back into the bathroom when Harry stops the door from shutting with his boot.

His eyes are frantic as they jump around your face. You try to keep a steady gaze. You have never acted this way before with Harry, and you certainly have never kept something from him. Maybe that's why he dismisses that thought immediately from his mind.

However, he still asks softly, "You're not lying to me, right?"

It takes everything in you to force your lips into a smile. "No, of course not. Why would I?"