Have you ever wondered, maybe just once, what it would be like to fall madly in love with the wonderful and Harry Styles? Well, of course you probably have. But what if he were to fall madly in love with you, too? I'm Lila, and this is my story.

*This may be very sad at some points, cuz it IS based on the song moments... So be prepared, my fellow friends!*


1. One

I sit in my room and cry. Nobody cares about me. Nobody likes me. But of course they don't. They can't. No one ever can. Not even my own parents. I live alone, never keeping touch with my parents. Because they never want to.

"Why doesn't anyone care?" I mutter, angrily. Not much else I can do. I stare blankly at the wall, angrily at it, waiting. Just waiting for something, someone to happen. 

"Ugh. I'm going for a walk." I tell myself, wrapping my ragged coat around my torso. I step into my long-worn shoes. I walk into the bitter cold, snowflakes flying around my face. My long hair blowing in the wind, taking away all the warmth my face has. I pull my tattered hood tight around my face, my lips in a tight frown. My crystal green eyes focusing in snow on the scenery I front of me. I sigh, pulling my red hair out of my eyes. I keep walking, closing my eyes. Walking out of memory, I suddenly fall into snow. The wet flakes slowly soak through my jacket, leaving a burning cold sensation behind.

"Are you okay, love?" I hear a voice say, and a hand. I grab the hand, feeling the warm skin against mine. It sends shivers down my spine. A good type type of shivers. I stand up, and look into the eyes of a boy. Astonishingly green eyes...

"Are you okay?" I hear his voice ask again. I turn away.

"Y-yeah." I quickly say, pushing my hair away from my face.

"That's good. Sorry I bumped into you. Well, not really sorry. Sorry as in that I'm sorry you fell in the snow, but not like sorry we... Sorry. I'm mumbling." He says, looking away. I smile, just noticing his curls. Just a few of his brown curls were peeking out from beneath his hood.

i smile even wider, blushing, the red heat illuminating my face warming it as well.

"Well, anyway, the least I could do for the bumping in to is get you a coffee sometime. Could I have your number?" He asks. Blushing even brighter, I scrawl it on a small piece of paper hidden in my jacket. Walking away, back to my house, I glance back at the boy. He's smiling, then turning away, back to where he came from.

"Maybe he's an angel." I tell myself. "An angel to tell me that everything is going to be all right."

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