harry styles blurbs

directions

harry gets cocky about directions

warnings: swearing, tiniest smidgen of angst if you squint

word count: around 600 words

"Babe, please just get it up on your phone." You says as sweetly as possible, thickly coating the small ball of irritation bubbling in your stomach.

"Honey, I know the way. I'll just direct you." Harry huffs, shifting his posture in his seat and shifting his gaze to the front window, looking pensively at the endless twisting roads of the English countryside. Harry was insistent of directing you back to your house after your day out, claiming to know his way around. You think you'd passed the same house three times. The fact that you were both hungry and tired wasn't helping the buzzed air, either.

You were ready for throttling him.

"Harry, for someone who is from around here you definitely do not know your way round." You tease, and Harry looks at you with a frown.

"Hey! I've lived in London for a long time now. I'm used to being surrounded by nothing but buildings..." He sounds slightly nervous now, whipping his head to look at the mirrors in the car. You growl in annoyance. "Go left down here." He orders, and you shake your head.

"You're a pain in my arse." You grumble.

"Don't start." He sighs. "Ooh! Look! There's a sheep. That wasn't there before." He sounds triumphant; you shake your head in irritation.

"That sheep has been there the whole time, you pillock." Your patience is wearing dangerously thin at this point, already being a nervous driver and now Harry was sending you here, there and everywhere.

"I offered to fucking drive, love." You glance at him quickly to shoot him a glare at his tone.

"Get my phone out and type in my fucking address." You order, grabbing it from the console and chucking it into his lap. He yells in pain.

"Shit! Do you want kids or not?" He yelps, clutching his crotch in pain and it makes your eyes roll. He was always so over the top.

"Yes, and if they're so unlucky as to inherit your geography skills, we're getting them a tutor." You quip, trying to ignore the excitement in your chest at the thought of having kids with Harry. You couldn't think about that, however...you were trying to be irritated with him.

"Yeah, and let's hope they don't inherit your driving skills." He smirks, patting your hand on the gear stick. You're quick to move and swat his hand, him clutching it dramatically.

"Stop being such a drama queen and unlock my phone right now or I'm ditching you on the Hard Shoulder."

Soon enough, after Harry's pride finally subsided, your phone was propped up with a small blue arrow directing you back to your little house, Harry pulling his face until you get on to a motorway you finally recognise.

"See. I knew where we were, I know this motorway now." He says smugly. He definitely didn't know where you were, and was just saying it to prove a point. To be petty, you click the radio on and blast it, switching the channel to the local Metal station that he hates.

"You're an evil woman!" He shouts over the music, making you laugh manically.

"You love me!" You shout back.

And when you're pulling into your house, Harry's quiet as he unclicks his seatbelt, looking at you with sheepish eyes and a shy smile. "Soooo. Did I mention you looked pretty today?"

This makes you scoff.

"Don't act all nicey nice with me now, David Attenborough." You say this with spite but Harry knows you're joking, he can tell by the humorous look in your eye.

"Sorry, gorgeous. You're a great driver, hm? Got us back safe and sound." He grins, and you feel yourself cave. He kisses you on the cheek.

"Mm. You're still shit at geography." You laugh, pinching his cheek and kissing his lips.

He laughs loudly. "Okay...I deserved that one."