A Harry Styles Imagine
An imagine for Kellin:
The soft sound of rain falling against the window caused you to stir out of your sleep. It was still slightly dark—the sun not yet encroaching on the morning sky. Harry was sound asleep. You smiled slightly as you observed him. He always slept the same: lying on his stomach; his curls swept messily across his face; his breathing, calm and steady. His sweatshirt was spread across the foot of the bed. You put it on before peeling off the covers from where you sat.
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