Harry Styles Imagines and Preferences Book Two

Phone Calls

You scroll through the pictures one more time, waiting for him to pick up the phone. He's across the Atlantic, but you had to call him.

"Hey, babe," he answers, his voice cheery, as the loud voices in the background slowly fade as he finds a quieter space to talk. You sniff loudly, trying to hold your emotions in before even attempting to talk.

"Everything alright love? What's wrong?" He questions with concern, wanting to know why you were calling him crying.

"Everything is perfect," you say, your voice cracking.

"Baby, what's the matter?" His tone searching for an answer from your side of the line.

"Absolutely nothing," you continue, trying your best to control your tears in an attempt to actually have a conversation.

"Okay, well, why are you crying?" You take a deep breath in, looking at the pictures on your computer screen once more, shaking your head in awe, a smile forming on your face. Once you gain enough composure to talk you answer him.

"I just wanted to tell you something" You begin. He says nothing, allowing you to get your thoughts out uninterrupted.

"I just wanted to tell you how absolutely and incredibly proud I am of you" You hear him sigh in relief at your confession and the truth that nothing was wrong.

"I am scrolling through these pictures of you visiting that girl and her family in New Jersey, and Harry, I don't think I have ever been more overwhelmed by anything else in my entire life." He laughs softly at your honesty.

"I just wanted to visit her," he tells you and your smile grows wider.

"I know you did, and the fact that you actually went shows just how..." You pause your thought as your tears begin to fall once more. "...it just shows how incredible you are. I am so proud of you. And so unbelievably honoured to call you mine."

"Honoured? That's a bit of a stretch babe," he acknowledges with a chuckle, trying to play off his actions.

"It isn't," you begin. "Thank you for once again showing the world the true Harry Styles, the one that I love with all of my heart."

"You're welcome, I guess," he answers, with another soft chuckle, never being able to fully accept sentimental compliments. As your eyes begin to dry, you review the conversation the two of you had just attempted, laughing at your breakdown.

"What is it now?" He inquires, your laughter sounding like wailing.

"Nothing, I'm just laughing."

"Good, laughing is good. Please don't call me crying again baby, especially when there's no reason to," he orders playfully.

"I'm overemotional sometimes. I can't help it!"

"You're overemotional all of the time love," he chuckles. It was true.