Harry Styles Imagines/Blurbs

Acne

Harry would just be so upset about this, you know? He’d be upset that you felt like you had to cover it up with makeup and layers of clothes and low self-confidence. He’d be upset that you felt so badly about it and that it seemed like no matter what he said, he couldn’t help. He’d be a fixer and it’d bother him that he couldn’t fix this problem, couldn’t help you the way he wanted. Because he’d genuinely believe that you were beautiful regardless. Yeah, you were beautiful on the inside (and really that’d be his favorite part—the way you’d make him feel loved and special, and how witty and smart you were, and how you made him laugh literally all the time), but you were honestly beautiful on the outside too. So what that you had acne? He did too sometimes, and you still loved him, so why the double standard for yourself?

Whenever you’d get shy or upset about it, he’d always pull you into a hug and sigh heavily into your hair, his eyebrows furrowing in concern, and he’d mumble about how beautiful you were— hoping every time that you’d believe him once and for all. His large hands would find the back of your head and he’d gently tilt it up, forcing you in the most kind of ways to look at him as he’d search your face and your eyes and everything held behind them.  He’d just want to know— know exactly how it felt and why it hurt so much and where all this insecurity was really coming from. He’d want to know how he could make it better, what he should say, who he could be that would change the way you thought—because honestly.. honestly he wouldn’t know quite what to do, but he’d be willing to do whatever it would take to make you love yourself as much as he loved you. So with kisses to your tear-stained cheeks and your fluttering eye lids and your sniffling nose, kisses to your forehead and your hair line and that little place on the side of your right cheek that he loved so much, he’d hope you’d understand how much he cared. And with a lingering kiss to your lips—the ones he felt he could never get enough of—he’d hope you’d understand how much he loved— every single little part of you, blemishes and all.