It was becoming an all too frequent occurrence that Harry would leave me with a sleepless night.
It was almost five in the morning when I finally got back into my own hotel room - that meant Harry and I had been speaking for hours, almost completely into the following day. I wasn't sure I'd ever spent so long speaking to anybody without having any sort of awareness of the time passing - it had felt so easy, and so effortless; even when I'd felt myself getting carried away, eventually, it had felt almost impossible to stop. He had that about him; that strange allure - it was like you could tell him absolutely anything without fear of judgement - that was another thing. Somehow, when I made it back into my room, I didn't feel ashamed, or judged. And in a way, that was even worse - I didn't want to grow comfortable with divulging the details of my life, or with oversharing with somebody I had really ought to be doing the opposite with. I didn't want to grow accustomed to confiding in somebody, especially not Harry. That would be incredibly dangerous, and incredibly foolish. To trust somebody in the way I suddenly found myself tempted to, would be naïve. I needed to keep him at arm's length.
I had gotten myself into the habit of never saying how I really felt about anything, to anyone. Grace was an exception, but even she wasn't made aware of the extent of all my never-ending reservations. The fact that I'd so quickly, and so easily been willing to say what I felt to him, was absolutely not how it could be.
I knew there wasn't a chance of me getting a moment of sleep, and so I kept myself busy from the second I got inside my room. I wasn't even sure what time Harry had left from his position outside of my door, because I didn't dare to look - instead, I tidied up as much as I could, packing my things into my suitcase so that I was ready to leave Dallas in the evening. I took an unnecessarily long shower, and reorganised all of my things in my case, repeatedly, hoping to remain distracted. It wasn't working - of course, it wasn't. It never seemed to.
I got out my laptop, and tried to focus on some work - but that wasn't exactly easy, either, when the very person I was trying to push from my head was the subject of all of my work. I clicked through what felt like endless photos of him on stage, trying to ignore the swell in my chest at the sight of him. Only a moment or so passed, before I sighed, closing the lid of my laptop. I couldn't really face anymore, without facing the very thing I wanted to avoid.
Had we almost kissed?
In all honesty, I wasn't really sure - it had certainly felt like we had; it had certainly been the closest we'd gotten to kissing, and this time, without much excuse. We weren't drunk - at least, I wasn't, and Harry hadn't really seemed it. We hadn't drank much at the club, and although Harry's drink of choice back at the hotel bar was much more severe than my own, he didn't seem particularly phased by it. I'd seen him intoxicated - or at least more intoxicated - and his demeanour didn't quite align with that.
He'd seemed so thoughtful - that felt like the only way to describe it. As he had been, the whole day leading up to the night, he seemed so contemplative - almost careful. Tentative wasn't a word I'd ever have thought could be used to describe Harry Styles, but I'd felt it from him, last night - he'd been hesitant, and tentative, but had ended up remaining in my company, nonetheless. I knew that feeling - it was like no matter how I felt, or what I did, I couldn't stay away from him.
His confession outside of my hotel room was something I didn't dare to fully consider. I didn't dare to properly let my brain run away with what he'd said - what it could mean. It was the most he'd really said to me about how he felt about anything, but at the same time, I felt like I didn't understand him any better than I had twenty-four hours ago. I couldn't make sense of any of it; not of him, not of how he felt, not of myself, or how I felt. I wondered if he even had half the turmoil I did, or if this even crossed his mind at all.
'I've been struggling a lot with what I want lately', "I've been torturing myself, trying to do the right thing.'
What was the right thing? What did he want?
Maybe I was reading it all wrong - perhaps there was a perfectly innocent explanation for why Harry's face had fallen dangerously close to my own, and I'd practically been able to feel his breath fanning over my lips. There could've been a completely reasonable explanation for how he'd almost entirely closed the space between us, causing me to press back against the door. I had it all wrong.
By the time I'd finally stopped pacing around, packing and repacking, it was late morning. I sat on my bed, nervously chewing on my nail, spiralling some more. I could feel a wave of tiredness beginning to hit me - after all, I'd been awake for over twenty-four hours now, and had spent those hours rather preoccupied. I had a few hours before I needed to meet with the others to head to the airport, and I figured I definitely wasn't going to get any work done.
Just as I went to lie down on the bed, and attempt to get a few hours of rest, a melodic knock sounded upon my door. I bolted upright, my heart beginning to race. Could it be Harry?
I wasn't sure if I hoped it was him, or if I hoped that it was anybody else, but I quickly stood up and headed to the door. I tugged it open, to face the same spot I'd stood in last night, inches from Harry, only to find Elin and Pauli filling that very space.
Elin's face lit up when I opened the door, her elbow quickly digging into Pauli's side. "See - I knew she'd be here. You owe me ten dollars."
I frowned, as Pauli huffed at her, before turning to me with a bright smile. "Good morning, sunshine."
I narrowed my eyes, "What's up?" I asked, suspiciously, my eyes falling to a tray of coffee cups in Elin's hands. I then noticed Pauli holding a box of his own.
"Can we come in, or what?" Elin asked, raising her eyebrows, and I stepped aside to hold the door open for the pair of them. They entered the room and I followed them, taking a seat on the bed. Pauli appeared to peer around for a second, as did Elin.
"I told you he wouldn't have been here," Elin said to Pauli, planting herself in the chair nearest to me. I squinted, as Pauli merely shrugged in defeat. Elin leant over, handing me one of the cups she held, "Here."
I took the cup, removing the lid - it was a black coffee; something I hadn't realised how much I'd been craving until it was in front of me. I went to thank them, before I caught the pair of them exchanging glances. "Okay, spit it out."
Pauli's eyes widened, "Pfft, what?"
"No idea what you're talking about," Elin shrugged, glancing from side to side and taking a sip of her own drink, before handing the third cup to Pauli.
"Just say it, whatever it is," I took a sip of my drink, exhaling deeply at the taste of the caffeine I'd been needing. This was quickly becoming a pattern I'd noticed, where the group seemed to have a common idea about something, but wouldn't disclose it to me. But Elin's reference to the fact 'he wouldn't have been here', as if searching for traces of him in my room, paired with Elin's often knowing looks, and their quick closing of the elevator last night, were starting to give me a pretty good idea of what they were trying to reference.
"What time did you get back here?" Elin asked, innocently. Pauli opened the box he held, finally, revealing an array of doughnuts the pair of them had clearly picked up this morning. He held out the box to me, gesturing for me to take one. When I didn't take one straight away, he shook the box, and so I obliged, taking a doughnut.
"I'm not sure, why?" I shrugged, taking a sip of my drink, watching the pair of them exchange glances again. I rolled my eyes, "What?"
"Well-" Pauli said, through a mouthful of a doughnut, before he held his finger up, gesturing for us to wait for him to chew. Elin rolled her eyes, deciding to speak for him.
"Pauli's room is right across from Harry's. And I don't know if you've noticed, but Harry is a super loud walker - like, you can hear him coming from a mile away. And his door is super creaky. But Pauli didn't hear Harry's door until, like, five AM," Elin explained, gesturing with her hands as if what she was saying was totally normal. I looked at her, sort of amused, as Pauli frantically nodded, occasionally pointing to Elin as she spoke, in agreement. Considering the situation with Harry had caused me little other than dismay and relentless turmoil these last few days, this was the first time I'd managed to find any humour in it. The fact Elin and Pauli had been keeping such a watchful eye on the pair of us, and trying to investigate, was simultaneously hilarious, and mortifying. Harry would've had a fit, considering how determined he was to make sure nobody knew we'd even crossed paths before my first day here.
I simply stared at the two of them, rather gobsmacked by the information that had just been laid out for me. I wasn't quite sure what they were implying, but their speculation was giving me some temporary relief.
"Basically," Pauli interjected, "we thought he might've spent the night here."
"And why would he do that?" I raised an eyebrow, watching the pair of them exchange a glance again.
Pauli coughed, and Elin sipped her drink, neither giving me an answer. I sighed.
"We had a drink downstairs and went back to our own rooms," I told them, firmly, "nothing happened. At all." Not untrue.
Elin sighed, rolling her eyes, "Boring."
"Are you serious?!" I almost laughed, my eyes travelling between the pair of them, before a sense of panic filled my chest again, "please tell me you haven't all been speculating on this."
"Mainly us two," Pauli shrugged, "we don't have anything else to do. Sarah asked us about it, too. Mitch is the only one who hasn't said anything." I furrowed my eyebrows, listening intently. So much for subtlety. So, the entire group thought something was going on between Harry and I... I didn't even know if something was going on between Harry and I.
"Why do you guys all think something is going on?" I asked, as if there was nothing to be speculated upon. As far as they were concerned, Harry and I had never interacted in any way that wasn't professional - if they all thought so much about the dynamic between Harry and I, now, I couldn't imagine their reaction if they were to know we'd slept together more than once - but that certainly wasn't something I planned to disclose, and I knew Harry wouldn't either.
"Because it's obvious," Elin laughed, and I widened my eyes. She waved her hand dismissively, "Harry's been all weird ever since you got here, and he goes into some sort of trance when you're around." I felt my cheeks heat and my stomach flutter at her words. Really?
"Have you seen him today?" I asked, sheepishly. Elin appeared to bite back a knowing smirk, again, whilst Pauli sipped on his coffee. I couldn't help it - I wanted to know. All embarrassment seemed to have evaporated from my shoulders, the second that Elin had said what she'd said about Harry around me. Maybe I wasn't crazy.
"He's been doing interviews all morning," she told me, "Stella had him on the move hours ago. He'll probably be coming back soon." I tried to ignore the twist in my gut at the fact I hadn't been informed of or invited to these interviews today, as I had to the last ones. Why would he have wanted or needed me at the last interviews, but not these?
"Oh," was all I returned, toying with the lid of my coffee cup. It felt like there was so much more to Harry's both hot and cold demeanour, and I was aching to understand it, properly, before it drove me insane.
I didn't see Harry until we all met up in the hotel lobby that afternoon, to leave for the airport, to fly to Missouri. He looked tired, too, like he also hadn't slept, but like the networks he'd spent the day appearing on had dabbed some concealer under his eyes and told him to get on with it. He wore a baggy hoodie, with his tour logo embroidered onto the front - a hoodie that always seemed to be worn by at least one of us at any given time - and he looked as if all he wanted to do was go to sleep. He sent me a brief, momentary glance as I entered the room, but that was all - and suddenly, it felt like we were back to square one. Again, his expression was full of contemplation, his lip drawn between his teeth, and one of his rings caught between his fingers, being toyed with, mindlessly. It felt even worse this time, not to be speaking, when we'd both said so much last night. I knew it was awkward, and I knew it was difficult - especially not even being able to understand if what I thought almost happened had actually almost happened.
For a second, Harry and I locked eyes again, and this time, he sent me the tiniest, almost undetectable, smile - so small, that it was most definitely, solely for me to catch. It was barely there, but it was intentional, and it was enough to send shockwaves through me. I wondered if he could tell that if he'd given me the cold shoulder, I'd begin to second-guess absolutely everything. I would've begun to spiral into all the things I had, and shouldn't have said last night - there was no way he could've known that. But sometimes, when he looked at me, it felt like he knew everything; more than I could ever tell him.
The journey to the airport wasn't long, or overly tedious - instead, everybody seemed very lively, and excited to be moving on to the next city. Everybody seemed so constantly optimistic, even with us crammed into the back of a bus, whilst we earned the occasional glare from Stella, seated closer to the front, beside Ally - who, of course, tapped away on her phone, oblivious to what was going on with us.
"Does everybody know how to play Mafia?" Pauli said, only moments into the drive.
"We don't have enough people to play," Mitch said, in a rare occurrence. Pauli waved him off.
"We'll make it work - Izzy, Elin, Mitch, Sarah.." he trailed off, as if doing a head count, before he turned to Harry, who was now nestled up in the corner, seated beside Mitch. His eyes were already shut, clutching one of the couch pillows to his chest. I felt my chest flutter at the sight of him, there - he looked exhausted, with his late night out paired with a day of relentless work. There was something about seeing him like that - curled up to sleep, his features softened.
"Play without me," he mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes. I felt a weird ache to shift a little closer to him, with us seated on opposite sides of the bus, but I ignored it.
"Do we all know the rules?" Pauli asked. I shook my head, and he leaned back in his chair. "Okay, I'll explain as we go," he paused, pulling a deck of cards from his bag, and I raised an eyebrow.
"You carry cards on you?" I asked, and he looked at me as if the answer were obvious.
"Duh."
Harry appeared to be asleep within mere moments of being left alone, and I had to force my eyes away from him in order to focus on the game. I could feel my eyes drawn back to him, but he was almost sound asleep, his eyes only fluttering open at the occasional sharp turn of the bus, or sudden harsh braking - and when his eyes would open, they'd drift straight to mine, never failing to light me on fire. I felt like my pull to him was getting even stronger; no matter what I did, or tried to convince myself - I could close the door in his face as many times as I liked, but I couldn't stop this incessant nagging in the back of my head about what I so desperately tried to avoid having to admit - to myself, or anyone.
The flight to St. Louis wasn't incredibly long either - it didn't feel like long until we'd arrived, and headed straight to our hotel. Harry and I didn't exchange a word, only mere glances as we separated to head to our own hotel rooms. As I watched him disappear down the corridor, I was aching to stop him and ask him what was going on; to find out if last night was playing in his head as much as it was in mine - in if his head, we'd been dangerously close to kissing, as we had been in mine. I felt like I was going crazy.
In my hotel room, my thumb had lingered over his contact - would it be weird to text him? Or to call him? And say what? Don't be ridiculous.
I threw myself back down onto my mattress, defeated. I was overthinking to the point of exhaustion. I just wanted answers, but I had no idea how to ask for them, nor was I even sure that Harry could give them to me. I knew I had to answer them myself, really - I knew I would have to figure out, myself, what was going on in my head - but I didn't even know where to start.
This felt relentless, like nothing else I'd ever felt before. Nobody had ever made me feel this way before - ever - I didn't know what I felt, but I knew I'd never felt it. I'd spent the last day, even more than I typically had over the past week or so, convincing myself of one thing, and then convincing myself of another; having one feeling, but then seeking to suppress it with another. And to make matters even worse, I didn't know what he felt, either.
I'd convinced myself he wanted nothing to do with me above a pure working relationship - he'd made that clear, already - but Elin and Pauli seemed to think otherwise, which only added to all of my overthinking. I wondered if he'd said anything to them.
I didn't want this. I didn't want anything. I didn't want to fall for him, or to want him, but it was becoming undeniable, now. I couldn't ignore it; I wanted to so, incredibly badly, but it wasn't working. I was truly at a loss for what to do, because I didn't at all know how to solve this, or to even convince myself otherwise. I didn't know where to go from here, or how to stop thinking about Harry; how to stop this relentless yearning for him. And it was exhausting.
Even the following day, I didn't see much of him. He, Pauli, and Mitch were all absent from breakfast, leaving me only with Sarah and Elin - not that I minded. I found them both increasingly easy to talk to, and it was a momentary relief from thinking about Harry - until he came up, of course.
"Where actually are they?" Elin asked, as I stirred my spoon mindlessly through my cereal. I only shrugged, but Sarah leaned forward with the roll of her eyes.
"Oh, do not get me started," she huffed, setting her fork down, lifting her arms to animate her story. I smiled as she did so - she had seemed so quiet when I first met her. "I'm sound asleep this morning, when somebody's knocking on our door. I make Mitch go look - it's like, five AM, mind you," she pauses for dramatic effect, "and it's Harry, wanting Mitch to go with him."
Elin scoffed, her mouth full of toast, "Pfft, for what?"
"A writing session, apparently," Sarah leaned back now, exasperated. "I haven't heard from him since - I'm guessing they got Pauli to go with them."
"Sounds intense," I remarked. We'd gotten to the hotel, finally, late in the evening, meaning Harry probably hadn't slept more than a couple of hours, even with how tired he'd been yesterday.
Sarah nodded, "It's- Oh," she paused, as her phone sounded with a notification. She appeared to scan the screen momentarily, before turning it to face Elin and I. "See, now we're wanted." It was a text from Mitch, asking for Sarah and Elin to join them to 'work on something'.
Elin turned to me, "Are you coming, Izzy?"
"No, I'll just see you guys later," I shook my head, bringing my lip between my teeth. I joked, "looks like confidential band business."
"Are you sure?" Sarah frowned, "it'll just be a rehearsal."
I shook my head again, "I've still got to edit some of the photos from the last show, and get them all together. Ally wants to sell a book of photos as part of Harry's merchandise, so, I need to get editing on them." This was true - Ally had approached me briefly about storing all of the photos, even those that weren't the best, or my favourites, and editing them to be used later on - plus, I needed to catch up on editing, regardless.
When we parted ways, the pair of them left the hotel, whilst I headed back to my room. I pulled out my laptop and tried to focus on editing the photos, and not lingering on the subject of them. I grew distracted every so often, receiving a text from Grace, or remembering that I needed to email Johnny back, or unsurprisingly, my mind would shift to Harry. I'd bitten my nails, now, to the point where they were barely even there, and I still felt overly tired.
The arena wasn't overly far from the hotel, and so I decided just to walk there, that afternoon. I was still very much unrecognisable, especially compared to the others, and so when I was alone, I could walk around normally. It stopped things feeling so intense; it felt like every day for well over a week, now, I'd been escorted to and from every location, and I barely got to see daylight. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to be the ones who were actually famous, and in need of being shielded, if it felt so overwhelming, even for me.
When I made it inside the arena, everybody was dressed and ready. Elin, Pauli, Sarah and Mitch were coordinated in their outfits, as always, but Harry wasn't in sight. I took some photos of the group of them, and I debated on finding Harry's dressing room to take some photos of him getting ready, too, but ultimately decided against it. Instead, I hung around with the others, eventually getting myself ready for the show, and thankfully, there wasn't much more time to kill.
The loud buzz of the crowd could be heard from the stage area, now, and I knew it wasn't long before the show would be starting. I was clicking through the past few photos I'd taken on my camera, when a familiar, gentle voice sounded from behind me. "Hi."
I turned around, startled. Elin, Mitch, Sarah and Pauli didn't seem to have noticed Harry, yet, as I'd been standing a little away from them. I looked up at him, as he stood before me clad in a silken suit, but lacking a jacket - his vest was pale in colour, clinging perfectly to him in the absence of a shirt underneath. I could see the entirety of his arms, and I wasn't sure I'd quite realised how muscular they were, until now, littered with inkings. Just where the button of his vest lay, I could see the edges of the moth that was tattooed onto his stomach, peeking above the fabric, and my mouth almost felt dry. His face was freshly shaven, and though he still appeared a little tired, he still looked perfect. He looked almost surreal, in this moment - he looked unbelievable. I forced my eyes onto his.
"Hi," I returned, with equal softness. His eyes appeared to search mine for a moment, and I wondered if he had something to say. He raked a hand through his hair, and my eyes followed the gesture. "Are you okay?" I watched his tired eyes soften at my question.
He nodded, "Mhm. Are you?" It felt like a thick tension had been restored between us since the other night, and I wasn't quite sure how to cut through it, or what exactly had prompted its return.
"Mhm," I returned with a hum similar to his own, pressing my lips together. He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but a loud array of screams sounded from the crowd, and the playlist that played before Harry would come on stage had drawn to a halt, meaning the lights would've definitely dropped. He looked at me once more, and I just wanted him to say it; whatever he was itching to say, just to say it. Not only did I have to struggle to understand myself, but I also struggled to understand him. Neither of us seemed to make it particularly easy.
Harry's pre-recorded introduction had begun to play, and so I took it as my cue to escape some of this awkwardness and head out to get into my first position. I brought my lip between my teeth, silently cursing our interaction as I headed out there - it was like a never-ending cycle with us; one step forward, and half a dozen back. And I couldn't make up my mind on how I felt about that.
The moment Harry stepped foot onto the stage, it was like all of his brooding had been forgotten, and a wide smile overtook his features. I knew he was genuinely happy and excited to be there, but it made me wonder how sincere his smile truly was - with how absent it had been mere moments previous. But his eyes were lit up, now, as the crowd burst into a deafening array of cheers and Harry ran from side to side, blowing elated kisses wherever he saw fit.
The show carried on as it typically would, with his opener finishing, and Harry continuing on to sing some of his older songs, as well as the ones from his recent album. I noticed how the crowd grew particularly loud, as they did at every show, for the ones I'd heard on the radio before. They were clearly his biggest songs, and seemed to get even those who weren't his biggest fans in the arena, onto their feet.
Just as he finished 'Adore You', one of my favourites for taking crowd pictures, as it seemed to encourage everybody to start hugging and singing to the people beside them, the lights fell over the arena. Harry had a brief talking intermission here, where he would usually interact with fan signs, or just chat casually about the city we were in, in the very endearing way that only he seemed to know how. I loved hearing how he could say the most trivial of sentences, and an array of screams and cheers would break out from the crowd around me. I'd moved over to Elin's side of the stage now, and I took a few photos of her, standing with her guitar gripped in her hands, not really focusing on what Harry had to say. I only noticed when a lot of crowd noise seemed to overtake the arena, and I could no longer hear the sound of Harry's voice, speaking.
"Cinema! Cinema! Cinema!"
I caught Elin covering her mouth as if to stifle laughter, and I brought my camera down, confused. I glanced over at Harry, who had brought his microphone away from his lips, and begun to narrow his eyes at the crowd in front of him, as if listening intently. No way.
The crowd wanted him to sing that song again.
As in, the very song he'd sworn the second that he got off stage, he wouldn't be doing again. The very song he appeared to have written on a whim, and that had caused him to behave so weirdly. This crowd wanted to hear it.
I stared up at Harry - what was he even to do in this situation? He didn't want to sing it, clearly, that was why he'd been so adamant about scrapping it from the setlist after performing it once - but, surely, he couldn't just ignore them.
At this point in the show, he was due to start 'Watermelon Sugar', a song for which the band would usually start to play a long, extended introduction - but the noise in the arena was now beyond deafening, and I wasn't sure how they would shift onwards. I looked frantically between the band, all of whom seemed really amused, other than Harry, who continued to listen intently. He pinched his bottom lip between his forefinger and thumb for a moment, as if in contemplation, before he glanced at me, quickly. I met his eye, puzzled, before he turned back to the crowd, raising his microphone to his lips.
'I'll do you one better, St. Louis." I watched as Harry moved quickly from one side of the stage to the other, moving toward where Sarah was positioned on the drums. He leant forward, mouthing something I couldn't make out, and gesturing with his hand, before he turned back to communicate with Mitch, Elin, and Pauli. I frowned, as Harry moved back towards his microphone stand, an almost confused, apprehensive buzz of noise filling the arena. He rose his hand, pushing his ring-clad fingers through his hair, before bringing his microphone back to his lips. He wasn't even smiling, or pulling a knowing smirk that I might have expected. His eyes were focused, instead, shifting to land on my own, again. "This is Medicine."
I watched him wind the cord of his microphone around his fingers, and he began to move back towards his microphone stand, before his eyes glanced back at me once more - only for a mere second, not long enough for anybody to notice, but I, and still certainly sufficient to send a small jolt of electricity through my veins. I bit my lip back into my mouth in anticipation. Another new song?
The lights dropped to a deep red, and a guitar riff began that I certainly didn't recognise. I brought my camera upwards anyway, snapping a picture as a spotlight landed on Harry, centre-stage, and he brought his fingers around the mic stand, parting his lips to sing.
"Here to take my medicine, take my medicine, treat you like a gentleman... give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline, think I'm gonna stick with it-" he paused, opening his eyes briefly as Sarah sounded the drums behind him, and I brought my camera down again, mesmerised. I watched him carefully, but his gaze was fixed forwards, as he broke into what I presumed was a pre-chorus.
"I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm wasted.. and when I sleep I'm gonna dream, of how you-" he paused there, and I could've sworn I felt shockwaves as he let his head fall backwards for a brief second of silence, his eyes fluttering shut, before the band came back in to continue the beat. I was almost entranced watching him, just as the rest of the arena was, and I had to remind myself that I actually had a job to do.
"If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive," he dragged out the final word, and I met Elin's eye as she continued to play. She raised her eyebrows at me, something I could see so clearly from our short distance, and my stomach dropped.
"You're awfully persuasive", he'd told me when I'd done all but beg him to join us out for Elin's birthday.
No way.
I wasn't sure I could even take in much else. I didn't know what to do, or even what to think. I tried to bring my camera back up, periodically, but I was struggling to focus. With each word that left his lips, my body felt like it was on fire.
"You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it."
He raised his hands above his hand, clapping them together in time with Sarah's melodic drumming, and encouraging the crowd to do the same. He looked around the room as he did so, taking in how the crowd mirrored his actions with so little hesitation.
His eyes finally fell to my own. All throughout this song, his eyes had been anywhere but me - but now, they burned perfectly into mine; deliberately. They stayed there, as did I - completely and utterly under his spell.
And it was then, that I realised, I really had fallen. Against every ounce of my will, and as much as I was desperate for it to be otherwise; I'd fallen for him. I couldn't keep this up - I couldn't keep this distance, I couldn't just keep being his colleague, or his friend. I couldn't do it, as much as I wanted to.
Harry crouched down at the edge of the stage, leaning forward. Where my camera was positioned in my hands, I thought he may have been eyeing the lens as I glanced down at it, but he wasn't. It was me - still me. His eyes were fixed on me, full of intensity like I'd never seen them.
"I had a few, got drunk on you, and now I'm wasted."