also known as the chiropractor fic in which Y/N is a chiropractor and Harry has an awful back.
***
Harry looks at Jeff as if he has two heads when he brings it up. "You want me to see someone? Like...a woman?"
Jeff's eyes widen and he shakes his head, putting down his smoothie as the irritated look on his friend's face doesn't falter. "No, I mean for your neck! Not a date. A chiropractor."
At the word chiropractor, Harry's neck starts to throb more, and to his horror, it travels down to his collarbones. He lays a heavy hand on the muscle and kneads roughly, wincing at the pain. "I don't know any in LA," he says, rolling his neck.
"I'll give you the number of mine."
He swallows a laugh. "You have a chiropractor?"
"Yeah, she's amazing. Don't knock it till you try it, yeah? I can get you her number. Makes me feel so fluid."
"I wanna feel fluid." He's being sarcastic, but Jeff doesn't catch it.
"Especially with the tour coming up."
Harry reaches for Jeff's smoothie and takes a slow sip, mulling it over in his head. "Yeah," he finally says, "I'd like her number."
***
Jeff makes an appointment for him anyway because despite all the evidence, Harry's being stubborn about it. Friday at 9 in the morning. Harry writes it down in his planner and also makes an alarm on his phone.
He arrives at the office, a part of LA that he's not very accustomed to, and sits in his car for a few minutes. Sunglasses on his face and beanie on his head, he feels a little ridiculous. Jeff had told him to wear clothing that's easily removed, or at least his top half. His bottom half should be fluid and easily maneuverable. It makes him question the entire appointment and wonder if he should schedule a consultation first, but he doesn't have enough time to make up his mind between all the google searches and the frantic "It won't hurt right?" questions he lays on Jeff.
Jeff said it won't hurt, but he might feel sore afterwards. After begging Jeff to come with him for so long, Harry gave up and in an effort to prove his independence, he shows up at his appointment in shorts and a sweatshirt, early.
The office is inviting, but it's nothing less than a doctor's office type of feel. The walls are blank with the exception of pictures of a spine with scoliosis and some frames he's seen in vintage shops along the road. The woman at the desk is friendly and doesn't treat him differently even when he removes his sunglasses and tells her he's Harry Styles and he's here for his appointment. She must notice the apprehension in his eyes because she offers him a gentle smile along with, "First time?"
He knows she doesn't mean that it's his first time in the office. She'd know that.
"Yeah," Harry says, absentmindedly wiping his hands on the seat he's sitting on. The rest of the people in the waiting room don't even bother to look up. "Don't know what to expect."
"You'll be alright."
The smile on his own face is forced. "Thanks."
When he gets called it, he almost doesn't remember how to act. When was the last time he'd been to the doctor for something that was actively bothering him? The chiropractor isn't even in the room when he arrives, so he calms himself down with a few deep breaths, standing to the side awkwardly. He removes his sunglasses and places them in his pockets, glancing around at the room. The walls have different diagrams of spines and neck tissues that he can't really understand. He can't pronounce the names of the different regions either, and he hopes he doesn't have to know them in order to explain where his pain is the most. He hopes he'll just be able to point and communicate well enough with her.
