Winter [Harry Styles AU]

nineteen

winter // nineteen

❄❄❄❄

❄ L ❄

❄❄❄❄

There is literally no world in which last night wasn't the worst decision either of them had ever made. Whether it was coming home at seven in the morning, or drinking an entire bottle of cheap vodka between them, or making out in the snow until they both potentially get hypothermia, it was horrible idea.

It was also an incredible idea.

See, Lena's body is exhausted, hungover, and bruised. Who would have thought a 2 AM adventure in freezing London would be a good idea? (Probably the same person who showed up at her apartment in the first place. Read: Harry. Always fucking Harry).

But Lena's mind is overjoyed, brimming with happiness and adoration and that stupid, fluttery, illogical emotion that can only be described as love for hipster Harry and his overgrown curls and his stupid, stupid night time adventures.

Lena flops around until she's on her back, making Harry grumble unhappily in his sleep before he settles back into the crook of her neck and throws his leg over her hip. It's snowing again. Lena drags the cover over them and pulls Harry closer into her arms, cocooning in the warmth.

"Stay," Harry whispers, digging his hands into Lena's fingers. "Don't even think about moving."

"Couldn't if I wanted," Lena huffs. "Frozen limbs and all that."

Harry doesn't seem all that repentant. "I mean, I thought I was hot enough to warm you up."

"You're about as attractive as Charles II."

Harry opens one eye and makes a face. Lena makes one back. "Is Charles II the sexiest man in all of England?"

"Not quite."

"Second sexiest, then. Right behind Zayn Malik."

"So on that note I'm going to go make breakfast..."

Harry pouts and makes grabby hands as she untangles herself from their cocoon of blankets and stands. She grabs a hopefully clean sweater from the floor and a pair of jeans out of the dresser, slipping into them quickly before leaning down to oblige Harry with a kiss.

He catches her by the hand as she gets up to leave. "I'm going to go out for a bit, yeah?"

"Okay," Lena grins. "Breakfast'll be ready when you get back. Unless we've eaten it all by then. In which case you're shit outta luck."

"You'd never let me starve."

"You do that to yourself," Lena teases. "You have no food in your fridge. Like, ever."

"Beause that would require grocery shopping," Harry says reasonably. He makes grabby hands for Lena. "Why are you wearing clothes? Clothes are dumb."

He's in a bit of a difficult mood this morning, it seems. Or maybe he's just hungry. Or maybe it's the hangover. It's probably a combination of the two. "Welcome to the real world, Harold. Where shoes and shirts are usually required."

Harry waggles his eyebrows. "No pants, though?"

"Unfortunately, babe, those are required too."

"The whole world is against me."

Lena rolls her eyes at him from the doorway. "You're not allowed to hate the world. I won't allow it. It'd be an insult to pessimists like me if you gave up so easily."

"I'm starting a no clothes revolution!" Harry calls. She can hear the pout in his voice even from down the hallway.

"Don't make us write another nudity peace treaty!" Lena yells back.