“Hmm….” You say to yourself as you study your reflection in the mirror. “Purple?” You mutter as you hold up a lacy purple shirt, “Or blue?” as you exchange it for a blue tee. After another moment of staring, you decide on the blue shirt and toss it onto the bed. “Now, jeans…”

 You begin to root through the contents of your closet in search of the perfect jeans. Tonight, you have to look good. Granted, Niall had already seen you since he’d returned from his seven week tour in America, and, of course, you lived with the boy, but tonight was your first official date since he’d been back. He’d arrived yesterday morning and had decided to sleep most of the day away—you didn’t blame him, not really. You knew how much of a pain jetlag could be. But tonight, he wanted to take you out a carnival out on the wharf, and you wanted to look good. However, it appeared as though every piece of cute clothing you owned had disappeared into thin air—you’d changed your outfit at least three times by now, and at this rate, you’d change it three more times before you were ready.

 With a cry of exasperation, you flee your closet and frantically begin to root through the laundry basket on the other side of the room. “There. Has. To. Be. Something!” You grunt as you dig. But, alas, there was nothing.

 You return to the closet and skim through your shirts again. “Niall likes red…” You say to yourself as you finger the fabric of a soft red, off-the-shoulder top. You disregard the blue tee and instead decide to wear the red shirt. You toss that onto the bed and peel off your tank-top as you grab your favorite old pair of skinnies. You know Niall likes it best when you don’t go all out and you look comfortable

 You’re standing there in nothing but your bra and underwear when suddenly, the door opens and Niall bursts in, looking at his phone. “Babe, what time do you—“ He freezes as he takes in the fact that you’re barely wearing any clothes. His jaw drops, and his eyes quickly check your body up and down, before his cheeks turn a bright red. “Oh…erm…” He smoothes the back of his hair down and rubs his neck. “I…um…I was just…” He blinks rapidly, and then promptly turns around and walks out, shaking his head as if he can’t believe what he’s just seen. You shake your head and move to put the red shirt on, but not before Niall pokes his head back in. “You know, we don’t have to go out tonight…we could always just stay in…” He’s smiling sheepishly, his shoulders hunched up and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his baggy jeans.

 You laugh as you pull the red shirt over your head and slide the jeans up your narrow thighs slowly, enjoying Niall’s hungry glance. When you’re finally dressed, you snap your fingers to get his attention. “Oi!” You say loudly, still laughing. “My eyes are up here!”

 Niall blushes furiously. “Oh, right. Um…shall we, then?” He offers you his arm as you slide into your flip-flops. You grin.

 “Of course,” you reply taking his arm.

 He walks you out to his car, but he won’t look in the eyes, not just yet. You know it’s because he’s still reliving what he saw upstairs.

“Well, that’s it, then,” Harry says in frustration, dropping his hands to his sides, allowing them to smack against his bare thighs as he stared at his closet in nothing but a pair of boxers. “I have absolutely nothing to wear.” He runs a hand through his messy morning curls and looks at you. “Brooke. Please. I beg of you. Help.”

 You’re sitting on the bed across the room, in nothing but a tank-top and underwear, your messy hair spilling over your shoulders. You turn down the volume on the TV and fling your legs over the side of the bed, getting up to stand beside Harry. You survey the contents of his closet with raised eyebrows.

 “Harry?”

 “Yes?”

 “You have more clothes than any person I’ve ever met.”

 Harry groans exasperatedly. “I knnnowww,” he whines. “But I’ve got absolutely nothing to wear!”

 You step into his closet and begin to root through what seems like thousands of t-shirts, khakis, jeans, and blazers. You pull out his favorite Ramones t-shirt. “What about this? You love this shirt, right?”

 He stares at it for a moment, and then smiles crookedly. He takes it from you, and slides it off the hanger. “I do,” he says slyly, pulling you close. “But it looks much better on you.” He stretches out the fabric just a little bit, then slides the shirt over your head and pulls your arms through the sleeves. You giggle—you feel like a little kid. As soon as the fabric as settled onto your shoulders, Harry puts his large hands on your waist and pulls you into him so you can see your reflection in his mirror. He smiles.

 “We look good together,” he whispers in your ear, and you smile.

 “We do,” you reply, turning around so you can look into his playful eyes.

 He grins cheekily. “You know, I’ve changed my mind,” he says, his eyes laughing. You raise your eyebrows.

 “Oh?” You reply, smirking.

 He nods. “Yup. That shirt looks good on you, buuutttt….”

 “But what?”

 He gives you an unholy grin. “But I think it would look better on my floor.” And with that, he whisks you off to the bed.

“Babe, could you do me a tiny little favor? Please?” You hear Harry ask from behind you. You turn around, wooden spoon in hand, to see what he wants.

 He’s leaning on the counter, a small smirk playing on his pouted lips—as always, you think—with a line of frosting on his lower lip. You raise an eyebrow, wondering what he could be up to now. “Yeees?” You reply, drawing out the vowel. Harry smiles.

 “I seem to have gotten a bit of frosting on my lip,” he says with one of his patented cheeky grins. “Help me get it off?”

 You roll your eyes and set your spoon down. You should have known—baking a cake with Harry Styles was no easy task. The boy had the attention span of a gnat and was far too focused on you to actually do anything productive. Not that you minded that, but this was a special cake—it was for Harry’s birthday, and you wanted it to be perfect. His distractions, however, were not helping.

 Knowing what he had in mind, you grab a napkin and in one swift movement, wipe the frosting from his lip with an evil grin. He gives you a look, and you giggle. He grabs your wrist and pulls you close.

 “You know what I wanted, Lexa,” he growls, using his nickname for you. “You know full well.”

 You squirm in his arms and smile wickedly. “Did I?” you ask innocently, your face only inches from his, your lips almost touching. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” You reach up with your finger and put a dot of flour on his nose. His eyebrows come together and his eyes cross in an effort to look at his now white nose.

 “Oh, now that’s just mean,” he says, letting you go. “This means war, you know.”

 You back up against the opposite counter, eyebrows raised and arms crossed. “Oh really?”

 He sashays over to the container of flour, and your eyes grow wide. “Harry, no, don’t—“

 But it’s too late. He’s already grabbed a handful, and it’s soaring at your from across the kitchen. You duck, but it’s too late but it hits you right in the face. Your jaw drops and you let out a shriek that turns into a laugh. “Oh, it is ON!” you yell, and you dive across the kitchen for the flour, but not before he yanks it away from you, sending some falling over the edge and puffing into the air. You cough, and tackle Harry to the ground, dumping the flour all over the floor. You know you’re really no match for him, but of course he lets you win—he always does. You roll on top of his chest, and you realize that at this point, you’re both positively covered in flour and laughing hysterically. He reaches up and moves a strand of your blonde hair out of your face, leaving yet another streak of flour on your forehead, but you don’t care. You can feel him breathing underneath of you, and suddenly, the moment is far more serious than it was before. The silence sees loud to you, and you can feel it buzzing in your ears. Harry’s heart is beating against your chest, and you rest your forehead against his. You smile, and he returns it, positively beaming, the smile reaching all the way to his vibrant green eyes. “Harry Edward Styles,” you say softly, your blue eyes meeting his green ones. “I love you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you feel him shiver underneath you.

 “Alexandra,” he replies, his voice just as soft, sending a shiver down your own spine as he uses your full name, “I love you.”

 You stay like that for who knew how long, staring into each other’s eyes, comfortable with the silence, until the clock in the living room chimed noon and you realized just how much time had passed. You sit up frantically. “Jesus, we’re going to be late!” You cry, standing up.

 Harry grins cheekily as he stands up, shaking flour out of his messy curls. “I have an idea,” he says, a wicked grin on his face. “To save time.”

 You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

 He nods. “Oh yes.”

 “Well.”

 His smile grows. “Let’s shower together.”

 You roll your eyes, but you have to admit—the idea isn’t so entirely unappealing. 

Send me your name and a short description (and a boy, if you like) and I’ll do my best to write you one!

And I feel absolutely horrible. I haven’t written in God knows how long, but I’ve had something happen in my life that made me reevaluate everything, but now, I’m back and I’m getting started on writing right away!

About two months ago, I had a very close family member of mine pass away, and, well, I wasn’t okay with talking about it for a very long time. I could barely function and I kind of shut down for a little while. I stopped writing, talking to friends, doing well in school……I didn’t really do anything for a while. But then a very close friend of mine (who, coincidentally, I met on Tumblr) helped me get through it, which was surprising to say the least, seeing as she lives on the other side of the country. But now, I’ve come to terms with the death of my family member, and I’ve stopped blaming myself. I know now that there’s nothing I can do to stop cancer, so I’m feeling so much better about everything.

Anyway, thanks for all you people that didn’t unfollow because I was on temporary hiatus. I swear I’m writing like you would not believe!

Thanks for listening ♥

xx, Audrey

I haven’t written anything for about a week, I’ve been SUPER slammed with homework and AP test prep and just all that end of the year stuff. And prom is coming up as well, and we all know how hectic that can be. So I am going to try at some point in the next week to get as many oneshots as I can done, as well as type up all the chapters of Forever Young I’ve done. I’m up to eleven in a notebook from school! So pleeeaseee be patient. I’m getting there.