Harry Styles In Black And White Novels & Stories

The basement light was dim and hazy, casting Leon’s bound shadow long across the concrete wall. I stepped back a few paces and tilted my head to admire my work. The man who was always perfectly dressed and immaculate now stood disheveled, his shirt ripped open, collarbones and taut muscles bared. “Harry, take this off me!” His voice was low, throat working as he spoke. The black blindfold hid his eyes, but his tense jawline betrayed his nerves.

The screen flashed and transited into the logo of the TV station on display with a short music bliss. The scene went back to the Announcer again. “Now, we’ve got quite the treat in store for you this Thursday evening at eight o’clock sharp. That’s right, set your calendars and press your suits, because we’ll be joined by none other than the dashing, the daring, the ever-distinguished… James Black!” Immediately, my interest sparked. A sound effect echoed from the show, like a crowd clapping. “Mr. Black, known across fashion circles from Paris to New York, has impressed more than a few with his bold body, sharp dressing sense, and an eye for what makes a gentleman, and a lady, look unforgettab

I stayed up until one in the morning, reading more and more since I've already dug up some dirt about him. Benedict Edward Rose Styles. Twenty-five years old. Fuckingly wealthy. He got a headline the day when the world found out he was the first born of Harry Styles from a one night stand. Mr. Harry Styles used to belong to an insanely famous boyband years ago called One Direction, later he turned to be a ridiculously filthy rich businessman. His mother, Miranda Rose Styles, at first kept him in secret for seven years from Harry and the entire world since she wasn't ready to tell everyone about him. Mrs. Styles was also married to her ex-husband Louis Tomlinson which was Harry Styles' best f

I took a sip of my coffee and took a glimpse of the man in front of me. He's wearing a business suit and I guessed he was handling some business like what he always do. Leaning on the couch and observing Harry's overall figure, I realized that he's the same with Black. He have his own company that's also huge and well-known, he's handsome with lots of admirers from left to right. Nonetheless, his personality is more approachable than Black. Well, I love Black even though people see him as a cold-blooded business tycoon.

Midnight-colored tank suit, black pants, and a crisp white shirt that had three buttons undone. The posture looked familiar, but I needed to see him clearly. So I squinted my eyes and there he was… black curly hair that seemed so much like some hands had been running through it… straight nose, almond eyes, and the perfect heart lips that could make and ruin you. My heart skipped as the description settled on me and in that moment, his face came into complete light. Yet, dark and grey like….. Zaydeen Black.

“Harry.” “Tell me that you’re glad to see me,” Harry’s appearance was, as always, dramatically beautiful. Tall, lean, broad shouldered, and dressed with an effortless elegance that Meguitte could never reproduce, their hair was a waist length, silky straight dyed golden curtain. From behind she might have mistaken Harry for Talen, though Talen had not worn his hair that length since his time in Alden whilst he had been grieving Gera, and Talen tended more to denim and flannelette than designer wear.

When she arrived at the rural area, she got out of the car and heard the clicking sound of leather shoes. Dior halted at the familiar sound. Her eyes sparkled as she turned around and saw… Harry sported a high-end suit in black. His leather shoes seemingly glistened, his hair was styled, and he emitted an exorbitant aura. He looked like a president from movies. Dior fangirled him; her heart almost skipped a beat. She took a while to react before she walked toward him in her heels, unable to hide her crush on him. “Harry Cogen! You look so handsome… Wait, you look so dressed up. Where are you going?”

They sat in the middle of a nest of amps and cords, sort of like a messier version of Ryan’s basement. Killian Lee was exactly the same as every photograph of him I’d ever seen: black pants, black long-sleeve shirt, black suit vest, black shoes. His black trench coat was folded over the back of his wooden chair. His black, bushy hair was pulled into a ponytail, he wore little round-lensed sunglasses, and there was a lit joint dangling out of his mouth.

I took his profile in as if that was the last time I was going to see him. His hair that was normally styled to perfection was all over the place, it looked as if he didn't even run a comb through it not to talk of styling it. His black blazers looked like it has seen better days and those eyes that I have come to love so much looked dead and lifeless... it was like he is right here in the moment but he isn't here( I don't even know if that makes any sense).

Earlier that day, she and the kids had gone to the amusement park. Liam, of course, had asked why I wasn’t coming with them. I told him I had some plans with Harry. Was Harry here already? I wondered as I opened the door to head out. Just then, Harry’s car drove in. Perfect timing, I whispered. Harry got out of the car and walked toward me. He wore black jeans and a sweater. He looked good, as usual. He would make a good model, I thought. His body build was perfect, the kind you see in commercials. I could tell even when he was fully clothed.