the man // harry styles

one

Watching the cars drive by, she waited for him to come home. She had waited all day for the door to open, to greet his scent that she had missed oh so much the whole day. That was the issue with Saturdays; when she had no plans but he did. His job was 24/7, unlike hers.

It was tough, she sometimes dared to admit to herself but no one else. To be with someone who had a 24/7 job, constantly being busy with himself, holding up the weight of his image to save the crushing fate of others. People were dependent on him, if he didn't work, no one would get paid. She understood that that was the sacrifice for coming home late at night when she was already in bed or the times he couldn't do more then send a bouquet of roses with his absence for her birthday. And she would forgive him; because those were the consequences for having the job he had always wanted. That was the consequence of being in a relationship with him.

Puck stood up, leaving her seat at the giant window, overlooking Mayfair. She tiptoed to the kitchen, in a house that didn't feel like hers, her success. But she overlooked it, because she was doing just fine on her own. She tried to ignore the things others had said and written about her in the tabloids, but Puck couldn't deny that it had shaped her perspective. Was she really that desperate to live in a townhouse in London? Did she really gain weight between November and February of 2020? Should she regret cutting those inches off of her hair last July?

Pippa came running to Puck, making her the centre of attention this time. The dachshund may be the only thing that kept Puck grounded during her time in London. She sometimes admitted to herself that she missed the times in Amsterdam, life seemed much easier there. The back and forth flights didn't make up for the time she missed. She had work here, working in the human resources sector at the Evening Standard. She sometimes doubted how long they would keep her there, especially the days when Puck was seen all over the news because she went to the Britt Awards with her boyfriend. The employees at the Evening Standard, who would sometimes see her face plastered on news articles before going to work, would take her much less serious. And she couldn't really blame them.

"Good girl," Puck cooed softly as she petted Pippa. Pippa didn't like being picked up, due to her long back, much to Harry's dismay. "That's why you like me a teensie bit more, right Pips?" She said out loud.

The sound of keys shuffling made Pippa squirm in Puck's arms. Puck released her dog, who made a sprint to the front door.

"Maybe you do love him more," she whispered under her breath as she watched her run off.

His presence made her feel warm inside. Thankful he kept the times he had texted her and didn't make it late as he sometimes did. Perhaps they could still make something of their Saturday.

Harry walked around the corner, a little astounded she didn't meet him at the door like she usually did. Maybe she knew something was up.

"Hey," he smiled, the smile that was worth millions. Literally.

His partner grinned back, showing off her big teeth. "Hey H."

Their lips met for a kiss.

The way his dark curls were pushed back and his blouse shinning from the light that crept in from the big window, made Puck reevaluated how lucky she was to be with him. Because what were the chances she would end up with someone like him.

"So," she hummed out the o, as she danced towards the refrigerator. "I was thinking," she sang out slowly, opening the refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of white wine. "We would cheers to the weekend together?"

Harry glanced at the wine bottle, sighing internally that he had to break the news to his beloved one.

"Puckers," he drawled out, trying to sense if she would be upset with him if he'd turn her down.. again. "I planned in a late studio session with Michael last minute."

Her lips separated and a mental slap was served. "I see," she tried swallowing her disappointment. "Didn't know you were still going to the studio tonight." She slowly started putting the wine back.

Harry scratched the back of his head. "Yeah," he drawled out, again. "Michael texted me this morning, said he got some new ideas."

Pushing her feelings and emotions back, suppressing everything Puck was feeling in that moment, she turned to Harry and smiled. "Well that sounds nice. You haven't put out something new in a few months."

He nodded, grateful she let him off the hook.

"Going to quickly grab my things," he announced and ran upstairs to his office, with his Chelsea boots lightly thundering up.

Puck stared ahead of her, figuring out how she was going to finish of her evening, alone. She could message Indigo and see if she was down for drinks at Portobello Star. Or she could ask Niall if he wanted to watch a film with her.

"Babe?" Harry stood in front of her, with a leather duffel bag in his hand. He had swapped his silky blouse for a dark brown knit jumper. His hair was a little more pushed back and his eyes seemed greener. He looked so damn beautiful, is the first thing what Puck thought.

"You look good."

"Are you sure you're okay with me going?" he questioned, ignoring her compliment. "I can also call Michael and reschedule. I feel bad."

Puck giggled at his distress. Harry was an extremely empathetic person, who tried and did his very best at feeling other people's emotions. He usually had it under control, especially in front of the media but in front of Puck he just couldn't.

"Yes silly," she replied. "Now go! You're going to be late otherwise, and you'll have a grumpy Mikey."

The corner of the left side of his lip curled upwards. He told her he loved her and off he was.