Incognito (Larry Stylinson AU)

Three

Harry's nails:3

-

The innocent princess

Isn't as innocent as they think

His thoughts run wild,

Adrenaline pumping as risks are taken.

-

Never in a million years did Harry imagine he would be in such a situation, eyes never leaving the gates, the postbox, keeping his eyes out for the mailman's arrival every single day.

Each and every time the doorbell rang, he would yell to his mom saying he'd get the door. Harry would race to the front door, leaving everything he was doing at a side. He was a nervous wreck whenever the mailman came and his mother was around.

Harry woke up at seven a.m. today, like he has been for the last week.

It was a Saturday, meaning no school so Harry simply went downstairs to make himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, cutting it into equal halves and ridding it of the crust.

He shoved one halve into his mouth, chewing it as he trudged up the stairs with the other halve in his hand. He plopped on his bed and plugged in his earphones as the intoxicating voice of Melanie Martinez started playing. Usually, he'd put the volume on full blast but today he only put in one side and the volume was only at fifty.

According to his calculations, today should be the exact date for it to arrive.

Ding Dong!

"I'll get it mom!" Harry shouted, not caring if his hair was in a mess or if there were crumbs on his band tee -Fall Out Boy, if you were wondering, a gift from Cara-, he sprinted down the staircase, two steps at a time and rushed to get the front door.

Anne was quite used to Harry's overly helpfulness with the mail these days so she didn't question him.

Harry took in a deep breath.

Please be it, please be it, please please please be it.

"Hi!" Harry said cheerfully, ruffling his soft curls as his eyes scanned the mailman. His eyes lit up when he saw the box in the male's hands.

"Hiya cutie." Harry flushed as he realized the boy -who was around nineteen- was checking him out and his curls were untamed and his tee shirt was terribly crinkled because he slept in it.

"Uhm?" Harry coughed.

"Oh right, parcel for..." the boy checked the label on the box. "Harry Styles?"

Harry felt so many emotions in that one second, anxiety, excitement, fear, embarrassment. He pursed his lips, scared that if he opened his mouth the balloon of emotions inside of him would burst and he'd be found out.

"That's me." Harry managed to squeak out. The mailman handed him the parcel and left with a flirtatious wink after Harry signed.

Harry's large hands -yes, he had big hands and long pretty fingers with nails painted ice blue and white- clutched the box close to his chest and scurried to the mailbox, grabbing the letters inside to seem less suspicious.

"Mommy," Harry called out to his mom who was reading out in the backyard. "Mail's on the kitchen counter!"

His mom yelled an okay in reply, Harry could picture his mother lazily waving her hand in dismissal, magazine in hand, but that wasn't at all important.