Harry Styles Short Stories

Wild Horses*

"Jealousy is not a good look on you, Harry Styles," I spat at him the second we walked into our apartment.

"Jesus," Harry sighed pinching the bridge if his nose.

"No. Don't do that," I huffed at him.

"I just couldn't let him keep flirting with you, it was so obvious he just wanted to fuck you! What kinda comments did he make about your appearance tonight?!" he raised his voice.

"He didn't say anything like that," I yelled back.

"Don't fucking lie to me," he spat, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Don't act like I'm fucking crazy! You're the crazy one, literally forcing me to leave the party because you didn't like the guy I was talking too!" I yelled.

"I don't think you're crazy," Harry spoke very calmly. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

I took a deep breath.

"Im sorry, you're not crazy," I took back my words that had spilled out moments ago. Even though I did not like what he had said I wanted to handle this situation differently.

He reached out for me and I accepted. He held me by the hips as we looked at each other, foreheads pressed together.

"Harry?" I spoke calmly. We were going to have a conversation and talk it out like adults. We were not going to scream at each other.

"Yes?" he responded.

"Do you know I love you? I'm talking about love, not obsession, not fighting, not fucking, love," I answered.

"Do you feel loved by me?" I added. He nodded.

"Yes," he whispered.

"I know. I'm sorry. I saw you with him, enjoying yourself and I couldn't help but feel afraid that you'd leave me," he murmured.

"Leave you?" I questioned.

"Mhm," he sighed, breaking eye contact.

"I'm not going to leave you," I assured him.

"I love you way too much for that," I laughed dryly.

He looked up at me, his features softening. My thumbs stroked his cheeks.

"Harry, I'm always going to tell you the truth, but I will never tell you goodbye, ok?" I asked.

He sighed in relief and pulled me into a tight hug.

"I love you so much," he spoke into my hair.

I pulled back and grabbed my phone. I turned on "Wild Horses," by the Rolling Stones.

"Dance with me?" I asked, holding my hand out for him. He gladly accepted and we began gently swaying to the music. My head rested on his shoulder, so his lips were right next to my ear.

"I watched you suffer a dull aching pain. Now you've decided to show me the same. No sweeping exits, or offstage lines, could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind," he sang to me. One of his hands held my waist, slowly drumming his fingers to the rhythm of the song. His other hand was on my back, pressing me into his chest, slowly rubbing up and down in soothing motion.

I hummed along with him. Both my hands were slung around his neck.

"Wild horses couldn't drag me away. Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away," he continued to sing. My lips began to kiss his neck and jawline as we swayed to the music.

When the song was over, he gently kissed my lips. His hand cupped my jaw, bringing my face closer to his.

"We're going on a little adventure. I'll grab your coat," he stated, moving past me to collect both of our coats from the rack by the door. I walked over to him, and he helped me put the jacket on. With our fingers intertwined he led me out of the door and to his car.