Harry Styles Imagines and Preferences Book Two

The Honeymoon Period Is Over

A loud crash of thunder jolted me awake and I sat up in bed, looking around the dark room. I rubbed my tired eyes and looked over to Harry's side of the bed; it was empty. I sighed and laid back down, my anger starting to return to me. We had been married now for six months and the honeymoon was officially over. Everything had been going great for us until a few hours ago when we had our first fight. Sure, we'd had plenty of fights in the past, but this was our first fight as a married couple. Harry had been at the studio working all day and I had told him that I was planning something special for us that night. He said he would be home at seven and he couldn't wait.

I'd spent all day grocery shopping and cooking, making a delicious meal for us to enjoy together. It was our sixth month wedding anniversary and I knew it wasn't as big of a deal as a year would be, but I still wanted it to be special and romantic. Seven o'clock had come and gone as I sat at the kitchen table in my little black dress I knew he loved with my heels. The food was definitely cold and the candles had burned down to little stubs. Harry hadn't called and every time I called him, it went straight to voicemail. I'd even called Louis to see if they'd heard from him with no luck at all. I was seriously starting to get worried.

What if something horrible happened to him? What if he was in an accident? I blew out the candles and packed up all the food with shaking hands. It was almost eleven thirty and I was so panicked, about to call the cops when I saw two car headlights light up our front windows as a car pulled into the driveway. I hope it's not the police about to give me bad news. My breathing was shallow and I was rooted to the spot with fear. I heard heavy footsteps coming towards the door as the car pulled out of the driveway, back onto the road. Keys were being fumbled before going into the lock and the door opened, revealing Harry.

I breathed a sigh of relief that he was alive as he came into the house, shutting the door behind him, the door behind him and dragging his feet. "Thank God you're home! Are you all right? Where is your car?" I asked, throwing myself into his arms. He stumbled a bit, but held me tight.

"Hey, love," he slurred.

I pulled back slightly to look up at him. His eyes were glassy and he had a stupid smile on his face. "Are you drunk?" I asked.

"Nope!" he exclaimed. He leaned down and gave me a sloppy kiss that tasted like whisky. I huffed and pushed him away. "You're wearing my favorite dress, sweetheart. You look so sexy. Did you wear that all for me?" he asked.

I was pissed. "Harry Edward Styles! You are shit-faced drunk and don't you dare lie about it again! I've been here all night, cooking a delicious meal for us and you promised to be home at seven! It's eleven thirty and I have not received one phone call from you. Where the fuck have you been!" I shouted.

Harry stumbled back a little and hiccupped. "I just went out for a quick drink with the boys." He said.

"A quick drink?! Are you kidding me right now? You didn't call me at all and every time I tried to call you, it went straight to voicemail!" I exclaimed.

"My phone is dead and I lost track of time. I'm home now and I'm fine. I'm not hurt," he told me.

"Oh, not yet you're not! You knew I was making us a nice dinner and you picked going out with the boys over coming home to your wife with whom you had a date planned? Fuck you, asshole!" I screamed, storming towards our bedroom.

"Come on, [YN], Don't be like that! It was an honest mistake. Let's kiss and make up and have some dinner. They had no food at the bar so I'm pretty hungry," he slurred, following me down the hall and zigzagging in his drunken stupor.