Harry Styles Imagines/Blurbs

Dumb Movie and Cuddles

           “Are you ready.. for the best movie ever?” Harry dramatically spoke, flopping a DVD case down on the counter as you emptied the popcorn bag into a bowl. You glanced back at him briefly.

            “I already told you, I think that movie is going to be dumb.” You replied with a roll of your eyes, and he got all defensive.

            “Heyyy..” He squinted and walked over towards you. “That’s not fair. Don’t judge a DVD by it’s case.”  

            “I’m not. I’m judging it based off the preview.” You playfully glared as you turned around. “Here, take this.” You instructed and handed him the bowl of popcorn. He snatched it out of your hands and glared back.

            “Fine.” He sniffed melodramatically and trounced off to the living room after snagging the case off the counter. You smiled to yourself as he left, not really caring about whether or not the movie was dumb. All you cared about was the fact that he was home-- and not just home as in not touring, but home. With you. On a normal Thursday night with no awards show or press conference or radio interview. Just you, him, your pj’s, and some really dumb movie.

            “Harrryyy.” You whined for no particular reason as you dragged your blanket behind you into the den.

            “Whaaaattt.” He whined back.

            “I don’t knowww.” You responded, trying not to let your grin show. Harry couldn’t help it and smirked as he put the DVD in the player.

            “You’re dumb.” He threw over his shoulder.

            “You're dumb.” You’d replied as you flopped onto the couch. The banter felt good after having spent so much time apart. Quick phone conversations don’t lend themselves well to silly chatters, and teasing just isn’t the same over texts. Banter with Harry was just natural-- easy and normal and just the right amount of sarcasm and childishness.

            He sloppily tackled you as he made his way to the couch, his face stuffing into your skin somewhere between your head and chest. You playfully yelled in protest, but his body felt good pressed against yours, even if it was totally silly.

            “Sorry, I’m dead.” He mumbled, his arms flapping bonelessly around you.

            “Harrryy.” You whined again, trying to palm him off of you. His body moved like a wet noodle as you prodded his lanky limbs. “Get offff.”

            “I can’t move.” He spoke again, his voice muffled this time by the fabric of the couch.

            “Yes you can, get off.” You threw your head back, but he didn’t budge. “Well we can’t watch your dumb movie if you don’t get the remote.”

            Harry’s head lifted enough for him to give you an impish look, eyes half closed. “Fine.”

            The movie turned out to be every bit as dumb as you’d expected, and you took it upon yourself to remind Harry of that every five minutes. Every time he replied with a playful glare, or a dramatic roll of his eyes, or sometimes he’d just throw his head back and groan in annoyance. Honestly, you were quite happy at his choice to watch it, because you didn’t think any movie could be as entertaining as picking on Harry and having him give you his dumb, flirty eyes every three seconds.

           Eventually the dumbness of the movie won out, and while it still played on in the background, Harry was more concerned about sharing stories from tour and asking you what had ever happened with the guy at work and wondering out loud about his mom’s latest hobby. His voice was low as he spoke, his eyes flickering up to yours from his chin’s resting place on your stomach. His legs bent up at his knees, his body warming yours. Hands resting on your stomach just below his chin, he thumped his thumbs softly as he spoke in wandering fragments. You added in your own thoughts here and there, but his droning made you sleepy, and honestly it was just nice to listen to him talk. You tried hard to listen to his story, but you got distracted by the way his lips curled up in an arbitrary smile and his brows furrowed in thought and his nose wiggled as he sniffed. It was silly, maybe, but all those little things are what you’d missed most while he was away.

           His pondering paused for a moment as he looked up at your sleepy, involuntary grin, incited by his quirking features.

           “What?” He asked, a curious flicker in his eye.

           You shook your head with a smile. “Just happy you’re home."

           He smiled slowly, his own eyelids heavy. “Me too.” His long body casually rose and he palmed closer to you, his arms holding him just above your torso. He looked down at you and smiled, his eyes darting from feature to feature. You liked how obvious his thoughts were, how obvious it was in his face that he was appreciating every little, dumb thing about you just like you were him.

           “I really missed you.” He said with a laugh in his voice, his eyes both playful and sincere.

           You laughed quietly. “I missed you too.”

           His head stooped towards you, pausing just above your lips. His eyes stayed fixed on them for a moment and your responsive smile made him smile too. He knew you could tell how utterly pathetic he was, but he didn’t care. Cheesy or not, he never thought he’d get used to the feeling he got when he was so close to you. And you loved to watch him in those moments because, well, it’s an amazing thing to be so loved by someone, and to be able to see it on their face.

           After a few seconds, he righted himself and finished his motion, his lips finally brushing yours. He smiled again as he playfully mumbled into your lips. “Yep. I’ve missed this.”

           Your lips quirked upward at his joking comment. “Me too.” You replied and let a hand find his curls. “But you know what I haven’t missed?”

           “What?” He mumbled, still pressing his lips to yours between comments.

           “Your terrible choice in movies.” You answered, your voice pretending to be more serious than your heart actually was.

           Harry’s face couldn’t help but brighten in a sleepy grin. “Hey.” He countered, a chuckle forming in his throat.

           “I’m just saying.” You shrugged a shoulder and he raised his head to look at you.

           “You..” he shook his head and pointed at you, his awkward fingers making you giggle.

           And maybe it wasn’t the most exciting sort of evening someone could ever have, but it was your favorite kind of evening all the same. With Harry’s stupid comments and impish tickles and cheesy kisses, you couldn’t think of a better way to ruin a dumb movie. You loved having your body all tangled up in his and his thoughts all jumbled together with yours and your hands constantly searching, playing, poking. Because, yeah, he was dumb and drawling and childish, but he was Harry. Your Harry. And you were his.