as it was harry styles ♥︎ ⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻ ⁰⁰'²⁵ ━━●━━───── ⁰²'⁰⁸

The airport feels colder than it should. You’re sitting at the gate, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, oversized headphones drowning out the distant murmur of announcements. The delay stretches on, and your thoughts wander, as they often do, to him. To Harry.

He’d been your best friend since forever; you were inseparable. And then, almost overnight, it all changed.

Harry quit his job at the bakery, auditioned for The X-Factor, and joined One Direction. Suddenly, he wasn’t just Harry from Redditch anymore. He was Harry Styles, part of the biggest boyband in the world. His face was on billboards, his name screamed by fans. And you? You stayed behind, rooted in the same small town he’d outgrown.

You’re jolted back to the present by a ripple of noise. You glance up, and there they are— a cluster of boys flanked by a wall of bodyguards. Even with the caps and sunglasses, you recognize them immediately. One Direction.

And then you see him. Harry.

He looks the same yet completely different— broader shoulders, a sharper jawline, but the same mop of curls, the same warm eyes. For a moment, you’re frozen, but your legs betray you. You stand, leaving your suitcase behind, and start walking toward him.

“Back off,” one of the bodyguards growls, stepping into your path. “No autographs right now.”

You don’t argue, too stunned to even speak. But then, over the gruff command, you hear a voice—calm, familiar. “She’s alright.”

The bodyguards step aside, and there he is, standing in front of you. Harry. His brows furrow, his eyes searching yours as if piecing together a half-forgotten memory.

“Is it really...you?” he whispers, voice soft, almost disbelieving. Then, as if the realization finally clicks, a smile breaks across his face, dimples deepening like they used to when he’d laugh too hard at his own jokes. “My god, it is you.”