harry's 19th birthday imagine;
you're out on the dance floor with your friends, having fun, dancing the most random moves. you get a bit thirsty and head over to the bar. after you've ordered a drink, you bump into someone, someone with brown curly hair and phenomenal green eyes.
"oh, i'm sorry," you say, very apologetic.
"no, no, it was completely my fault, i wasn't looking." his accent popping out, deep and husky. "i'm harry," he smiles.
you slightly blush, "y/n."
"it's nice to meet you, y/n. can i buy you a drink?"
although you've already ordered one, you never turn down a free drink offering, especially from a british guy. "sure, why not?" you smile.
once he's ordered the drinks, he smiles back at you, "it's my birthday, you know?"
you raise an eyebrow, "really?"
he nods, smiling cheekily.
"well then, better not let this night go to a waste." you smile as your drinks arrive.
he grabs them both and hands you a shot, "cheers." your glasses cling together before you chug the alcohol down, feeling your throat burn with venom.
throughout the night, you and harry managed to stay sober. you both flirted, tend to touches, and butterflies fluttered in and out of your stomach in seconds. but, like all nights, every single one comes to an end. you exchanged numbers to stay in touch.
"it was very nice to meet you, miss y/n." he kisses your hand.
you smile at how cliche he was being, "likewise, mr. styles."
you both walk, hand in hand to the exit. when you reach the doors, he stops in front of you.
"tonight was really great, thank you for a pretty amazing birthday."
you shrug, "it was nothing."
"it was more than nothing," he smiles, moving in, kissing you.
when you extract from the kiss, he's smiling. "thank you, again."
with that, he walked out the exit doors. you wake up every morning, just reliving that night and the memory of his lips touching yours is forever imprinted on you... and you can't wait to meet them again.
you're out on the dance floor with your friends, having fun, dancing the most random moves. you get a bit thirsty and head over to the bar. after you've ordered a drink, you bump into someone, someone with brown curly hair and phenomenal green eyes.
"oh, i'm sorry," you say, very apologetic.
"no, no, it was completely my fault, i wasn't looking." his accent popping out, deep and husky. "i'm harry," he smiles.
you slightly blush, "y/n."
"it's nice to meet you, y/n. can i buy you a drink?"
although you've already ordered one, you never turn down a free drink offering, especially from a british guy. "sure, why not?" you smile.
once he's ordered the drinks, he smiles back at you, "it's my birthday, you know?"
you raise an eyebrow, "really?"
he nods, smiling cheekily.
"well then, better not let this night go to a waste." you smile as your drinks arrive.
he grabs them both and hands you a shot, "cheers." your glasses cling together before you chug the alcohol down, feeling your throat burn with venom.
throughout the night, you and harry managed to stay sober. you both flirted, tend to touches, and butterflies fluttered in and out of your stomach in seconds. but, like all nights, every single one comes to an end. you exchanged numbers to stay in touch.
"it was very nice to meet you, miss y/n." he kisses your hand.
you smile at how cliche he was being, "likewise, mr. styles."
you both walk, hand in hand to the exit. when you reach the doors, he stops in front of you.
"tonight was really great, thank you for a pretty amazing birthday."
you shrug, "it was nothing."
"it was more than nothing," he smiles, moving in, kissing you.
when you extract from the kiss, he's smiling. "thank you, again."
with that, he walked out the exit doors. you wake up every morning, just reliving that night and the memory of his lips touching yours is forever imprinted on you... and you can't wait to meet them again.
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