Harry Styles Imagines

55. Support

"Please, come to one of my gigs tonight, Y/N," Harry begged, putting his strong arms around your waist. He nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck. With a slow pace he traced your collar bone with the tip of his nose. Warmth flooded through your blood streams. Your eyes closed as you savored the way your boyfriend could make you feel, and had been making you feel for 5 years now.

"I don't know if I'll be able to come, Harry." You turned around to face him. His gaze was fixed on you, and your hands found their way to his cheeks, and then tangled themselves in the hair on the nape of his neck. "I still have a lot of studying to do."

"Baby, please." Your boyfriend stepped closer to you. His mouth was slightly ajar as he connected your foreheads. "I'll sing the song I wrote for you," he said while sending a wink your way. That was unfair.

Harry knew you secretly loved it when he sang that particular song. You had never admitted you loved it, but Harry knew. Harry always knew those kind of things. As the little cheater he was, he often used it against you. He liked to get his way, sometimes a little too much. There was no doubt you'd say no when he would sing your song.

A couple of hours later you found yourself seated in a small pub, waiting for Harry to come on stage. You had found a seat in the back of the corner, sipping your drink every once in a while. The dark green dress you wore, slit up every time you tried to push yourself further onto the bar stool. With a frown etched on your face, you scanned to room to see if no one was watching you struggle. That'd be embarrassing.

The longer you waited, the harder your irritation grew. Almost everything about this place annoyed you.

It smelled so badly, you were considering to just walk out and go home. Or maybe buy some lemon candles and light them in every corner of the pub.

The woman next to you was gigglig obnoxiously when her friend smirked in the direction of a dark haired man. Then there were also the lingering eyes. It was as if half of the people in the pub were double your age, and they didn't waste a minute to let their eyes scan your body.

You didn't belong here. This was the most uncomfortable you've felt in a long while.

The thing that stopped you from leaving, was Harry. You'd do a lot for him. You would do anything to see him at his happiest. If that meant you had to sit in a smelly pub for an hour just to see your boyfriend perform for thirty minutes, then so will be it. Because the big smile that would appear on Harry's handsome face when he spotted you in the small crowd, was worth it.

Raising your hand to lift the glass cup to your lips, you surveyed the pub. There weren't many people tonight, maybe twenty or so. Two or three people were slightly familiar. The redhead and her blonde friend's face sparked a sense of recognition in your mind. A smile crept on your face as you thought that maybe Harry was getting some fans.

Suddenly an uneasy feeling made its way up your spine. You almost shivered in discontent. An alarm kept ringing inside your mind. With confusion evident on your face, you searched for the cause of the discomfort. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until the alarm continued to beep in your head the second you make eye contact with a man who was seated across the room.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

The stranger caught you looking at him, and his smirk widened in reaction. His sudden movements toward you startled you so much, you missed the moment Harry walked onto the small stage in the front of the room.

You were trying to concentrate on your boyfriend. With a reluctant smile - God, he was so cute - Harry took a seat on the stool placed in the middle of the stage. In the corner of your eye you could still see the unknown man smirking. His dirty blond hair was styled into a neat quiff and his deep brown eyes roamed over your body. They lingered a second too long on your legs that were curled underneath your body.