Harry Styles Imagines and Preferences

Red Carpet Drama

"Love, you need to relax. You'll be fine." Harry's hand slides around your knee and gives it a gentle squeeze, his fingers brushing the skin revealed by the hemline of your dress which stopped mid thigh, as he gives you a soothing smile. You run your hands over your dress for the twentieth time and take in a deep breath. "They're really not that bad." He reassures

"That's easy for you to say," you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You've been doing this for years. This is like a trip to the corner shop for you." Harry's shoulder shakes against yours as he laughs, edging up as close to you as he can in his seatbelt.

"I know it's scary at first, but really there's so much going on and so many people, it goes by quickly and then you're inside and it's fine." The backs of his fingers brush your jawline, just before he presses a kiss there.

"And I'll be there." His hand drifts down and takes yours, tangling your cold fingers up in his.

"I promise I'll be right by your side the whole time." You nod and try to calm yourself down, trying to let Harry's low, calming voice and his warmth and his love ease you like it usually does, but no matter what you do there's still that tight ball of nerves in your stomach.

It's going to be your first red carpet appearance ever, and the first time you've stepped out at a public event as Harry Styles' girlfriend. The two of you had kept your relationship very discreet for the first several months, guarding the fragility of a new romance from the public eye, until Harry asked you to move in with him and it was difficult to keep things under wraps while living under the same roof. By then you fully admitted to yourself and to anyone who'd listen that you were absolutely, head over heels in love with him, and despite the time apart and the sudden invasion of your privacy, you didn't think you could've found a better partner than Harry.

That devotion is why you're in this position right now, squeezed into a glamourous dress Harry had bought for you that made you feel faint when you saw the number on the price tag and all dolled up courtesy of Lou nearly strapping you into a chair for as long as it took to make you 'red carpet ready'. You had always carefully edged out of events like this before when he'd asked if you wanted to come along to this premiere or that award show, feeling too skittish about all the cameras and questions and the glamour that you always felt separate from to be able to face it. You didn't miss it, though, the little flash of disappointment in his eyes when you declined, and you knew that Harry was itching to have you on his arm, to show his relationship proudly to the world. You knew that sometimes he just wanted the support and comfort of your presence with him, you knew how drained he was when he came home from functions like this, and it filled you with guilt to know you could ease some of that if only you weren't so wary of it.

So when he'd mentioned this premiere of a movie a friend of his was involved in, you'd gulped down your fear and asked him if he wanted you to come with him. Harry had positively lit up, and even through your unease you couldn't deny the flutter of happiness you felt when he grinned and gave you a big, grateful hug.

That happiness was gone now, though, replaced by an unshakeable sense of impending doom, the limo beginning to crawl at a slow pace as the driver navigated a sea of people and other cars dropping off various celebrities.

"Relax, relax," he murmurs to you again, thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. "You'll do fine. We'll just take some pictures, I'll do a couple of interviews and then we'll go inside to see the film. All you have to do is stand there and be gorgeous." He bit down on his luscious bottom lip before looking you up and down and giving you a small smile that isn't innocent in the slightest.