i.
Y/N shouldn't stare.
It's not like she's meaning to -- she just looked up from her sandwich and he was there in the shadows, with a cigarette loosely between two fingers like he was apart of some fucking indie movie. The beanie he wears never comes off, she notices, even when the weather is getting warmer and he's rather intimidating with all the tattoos and lip piercing. His face seemed soft even though it doesn't really fit his whole tone and essence but it all somehow was whisked together in the cake that is teen rom com cliché Harry Styles.
Tuna fish isn't as intriguing as it should be when she looks up and sees that. . . him. But she doesn't know why, and that pisses her off, so she takes an incensed bite of her sandwich, yelling at herself to stop when she looks up again. Only this time, he's staring at her with this knowing smirk and a hand in his pocket and it makes her even angrier because what does he know? She could be staring his way for a completely different reason than what he's thinking, even if every living, breathing human wants to fuck him, that doesn't mean that's what she wants to do.
So her eyes cast downward, back to the anatomy book opened in front of her, trying to figure out a mnemonic for the cranial nerves (so far she's got 'Oh, Oh, Oh, To Touch And Feel Virgin Girls' Vaginas and Hymens' or Ooh, Ooh, Ooh, to touch and feel very good velvet. Such heaven! and she figures while the first makes her giggle, the latter she can write on her paper without her professor thinking she's a 13 year old boy before giving her points off), when she hears the grass smushing beneath someone's feet and she assumes it's Niall.
At least she does, until there's a clear of a throat and her head darts up, looking to see the indie movie himself staring back at her, "Hi Bunny," he begins smoothly, voice dripping like molasses from his lips, "Is there something you wanted? You'd been staring awful hard."
"I was just wondering when your friend was gonna tell you your fly was down." She looks pointedly at his crotch, thanking God that she'd been observant for once in her life.
It doesn't deter the confidence brooding inside of him, as he zips himself with a chuckle, shaking his head, "Oh, I like you already Bunny, but I doubt you could've seen that far. You wear glasses usually, you aren't wearing 'em now."
That stops her, face twisting confused. . .since when has Harry known she'd existed? Looking down she takes another bite out of her sandwich begrudgingly and avoiding his gaze, even when he sits down besides her, hand pressed to his face, "So what was it, Bunny?"
"Nothing," she answers to quickly, "I was staring off into space is all."
Harry laughs again, nodding slowly like he understands, getting up with a, "You know your rather cute. Might have to nab you for a night."
She watches him leave, scolding herself for thinking his butt was kind of cute and how broad his shoulders were gave her fantasies of really, really wicked piggy back rides. Scrunching her nose at him when he turns around to wink at her, sealing her fate as one of Harry's teasing targets, and she doesn't know if she likes it or not.
Y/N really shouldn't stare.
+
"Staring again, Bunny?" Harry hums, dropping his bag in the seat besides her and she knows it's very intentional. He'd caught her attention walking in, with a pink and white polka dotted top on which should lessen his intimidation points, but people still make sure to get out of his way. There were plenty of seats, the lecture hall being practically empty given the big "rager" or what have you that'd gone on last night, that it appears everyone had gone besides Y/N and maybe this non-hungover Harry.
