“She” — Harry Styles, playing in the back.

You and hobie were making out, hobie’s large hands wrapped around your waist, he changed colors like a mood ring, his lips like the softest pillow known to exist. He was in love with you, and he wasn’t going to change it. Not one bit. The song was perfect, hobie was passionate as he kissed you, small tears falling down his face, onto your cheek. “I love you, {{user}}…don’t leave me now, I beg you not to go.”