The air felt different around us when we left California - it was lighter, and so much freer of tension. I wouldn't have imagined that within a couple of days, everything would have changed; every tiny little thing I'd been avoiding - or at least, most of it - had been confronted. We knew how we felt; we'd laid it out, and we were letting it play out. To just enjoy things, and let things be, rather than insisting on controlling them; it felt exciting.
Just about as soon as we'd landed in Washington D.C, we had to head straight to the arena for soundcheck. Ally must've been on her seventh coffee, and Stella seemed to be running on pure adrenaline as she tapped away furiously on her phone about god knows what. And Harry was... Harry. Never complaining, never ungrateful - he seemed tired, yes, but as we sat in the very back row of the car, behind Stella and Ally who were the row before us, behind the driver, you'd never have known if he was bothered. His baggy hoodie hung off him perfectly, the sleeves pulled almost fully over his hands, but drawn back just enough for his fingertips to peek through - a coffee cup of his own in his left hand, and my hand grasped in his right.
It was only the early afternoon when we arrived at the arena, but I was already thinking about how soon I'd be able to sink into a night of sleep in the next hotel bed. I was exhausted; even the adrenaline provided by Harry's company wasn't entirely working to combat the maximum of three hours of sleep I'd had last night. I had to admit, as blissful as it had been to spend some time in the company of Harry, and Harry alone, I was looking forward to being reunited with the other and getting back to work. I was looking forward to being able to experience tour without this looming weight upon my shoulders of what Harry thought, or wanted - now that I had the answer to both of those things, I could simply be present.
Elin, Sarah, and Pauli had each greeted me with the warmest of hugs when we'd gotten inside of the arena. Mitch had shot me a barely detectable smile, but it was becoming pretty clear that was just who he was; he wasn't overly affectionate or hugely expressive, nor did he need to be - a tiny glance from him felt just like a wide grin from someone else. His eyes seemed pretty fixed on Harry from the moment we'd walked in, as if trying to detect the atmosphere between us. Now I knew that Mitch knew more about Harry and I than I'd originally anticipated, it became a lot clearer that he was intent on seeing how his friend was doing, which was actually rather endearing.
"God," Elin had groaned, drawing back from squeezing me tightly, "I don't know how we ever did this without you. It's been so boring." I laughed, feeling my heart warm at the fact my absence had even really been noticed or acknowledged, when I certainly hadn't expected it to be.
"What about me?" Harry raised his arms in mock exasperation, though I knew he didn't really care. The attention shifted onto him, before everybody moved back onto the stage to get ready for rehearsal - as they did so, he sent me a smile; that smile, that soft, beautiful smile that I was sure I could sit and trace the lines of for hours, without ever growing tired of it. I was sure nobody else would've picked up on it, but I'd never have been able to ignore the warmth it filled me with. His looks in my direction, now; his glances, his smiles, his gestures, didn't feel so achingly complicated - I didn't have to wish I hadn't picked up on them, or that he hadn't done them, even to begin with. Though it was all so new, and I feared it couldn't always feel this easy, everything felt so different now; so much better.
As Harry finally got onto the stage, my phone started to ring. It was a FaceTime call, from Grace, and I blew out a breath. I felt bad - I'd been pretty awful in replying to her texts over the past couple of days, and I hadn't had a chance to call her at all. She knew nothing about what had gone down with Harry since last week - and it wasn't at all that I didn't want to tell her, but rather, I'd needed to wrap my head around it myself, before I could tell her anything.
Harry caught my eye, as I was staring down at my phone as it buzzed in my hand, whilst the rest of the band chattered to one another.
"I need to take this," I mouthed to him, gesturing away from the room and holding my phone up, and he nodded quickly. I moved toward the hallway, answering the phone just as the call was about to end itself, and I was greeted with the face of my best friend.
"Oh my god, hello," she dramatically widened her eyes, leaning into the camera, "I thought you were dead or something."
"Hold on," I rolled my eyes at her theatrics, walking down the hallway of the backstage area in search of somewhere to go. I'd left all my things out front where the rest of the band were sound-checking - I could hear Sarah banging away at her drums even from the distance I continued to create, as I peered around at the closed doors, looking for somewhere a little quieter. It was sort of funny how at just about every arena we'd gone to, the backstage areas didn't differ much - each with some kind of greyish brick or tiled wall, with a black polished floor, photos and plaques on the walls sporting each of their accomplishments and largest events. And each seemed to have the artist's dressing room situated in more or less the exact same place.
I was sure Harry wouldn't care, but somehow it felt a little presumptive for me to go and take my phone call in his dressing room, assuming that he wouldn't mind. But he hadn't even been in here yet; this wasn't exactly an invasion of privacy. I pushed the door open, finding it to be pretty much entirely decked out with gift hampers upon each surface, and multiple bouquets of flowers for Harry's arrival.
"Okay," I turned my attention back to Grace as I took a seat on the large couch positioned against the wall, letting out a deep exhale. "Are you still there?"
Her reply came back straight away, as she unpaused her camera and came back into view, "Of course I am. What's been going on?"
"Not much. What about you?" I lied, unable to stifle the laugh threatening to leave my lips at her instantly exasperated expression. "Okay, I'm sorry. It's been.." I trailed off, leaning back into the couch and bringing my knees to my chest, "um.. quite a crazy couple of days." A slight understatement.
Her eyebrow raised. "Crazy how?"
I pursed my lips, unable to ignore the way my stomach was doing backflips just as I sought to find the words. I inhaled, and then exhaled, unable to control how the latter turned into a short, elated laugh. "Harry and I have decided to.. try things out.." I trailed off, needing not to say any more as Grace's expression already captured just about all of it; her eyes widened as her jaw dropped, and she drew back from the camera to let out some kind of squeal that I was sure would've severely angered our neighbours. I laughed, my shoulders dropping from their hunched position as an indescribable feeling seemed to fill my chest. To be separate from him, now, and actually reflect on it all, and just how good it felt.
"Stop it," Grace set up the camera on a surface beside her, so that I could witness her bury her face in her hands. "Izzy, this is the best thing ever. Ever."
"It's only been a couple of days," I clarified, as she waved her hands around hysterically, "and there's no labels or anything like that but-"
"So, you're dating, but he's basically made it sound like you're not, so that you don't freak out," she interrupted, bringing her hands into her lap and nodding, a wide grin on her face, "smart guy."
I narrowed my eyes briefly, unintentionally dismissing her last sentence as I suddenly noticed the familiar curve of the wall behind her. "Are you on my bed?"
"Maybe. You're sleeping in five-star hotels, I think you'll be fine." I rolled my eyes, unable to stifle my smile back at her. "Irrelevant, anyway. This is amazing, Izzy," she clasped her hands together, bringing them to her chest with a grin. "What changed?" She knew everything up until the point of Harry and I leaving for California, and she knew just how reluctant and sceptical I'd been. I knew she'd be nothing but elated at the fact things had progressed, but I also knew how well she knew me, and how my mind tended to work. And this was big for me.
I propped my phone up against a lamp positioned on the table beside the couch, crossing my legs in my seat as I paused in thought, before speaking, "I don't know.." I trailed off, running my hand over my arm. "He's just.. I don't know. He's different," I bit my lip, feeling butterflies arise in my stomach just at the simple recollection of our weekend together; how carefree, how amazing it felt. I never wanted to lose that feeling. Different didn't even begin to describe him; how he made me feel.
I gave Grace a brief rundown of the weekend - not in huge detail, but enough to keep her leaned into the camera, her hands clasped over her mouth. I told her about the award show, and how Harry had pretended to be incapable of tying his own tie in order to draw me in; the way he'd shown up for us to embark on a tour of LA for the following day, that he'd planned - only briefly hinting at the events that took place within his car. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen her so full of joy on my behalf - even when I'd originally accepted the job, this felt even greater.
"Enough about me," I said, finally, feeling like I'd talked a little too much, and was likely teetering on being annoying. "What about you? How are things?"
"Boring, in comparison," she told me, taking my pillow in her arms to hug it against her chest. "I went to see Johnny, like you asked."
"Oh?"
"He's good. I think his knee's bothering him a bit, but he wouldn't admit it."
I bit my lip. Shit. I'd sent multiple emails to Johnny in the past couple of weeks, and I'd received multiple replies - checking in, keeping him updated, sending him some of the photos I'd taken at the shows, at his request. And not once did Johnny mention that his knee had been bothering him again.
He worked too much - we both knew that, and sometimes his knee would start to play up. He'd been prescribed some medication for it, and it definitely came in flurries; he could go weeks without an ounce of pain - or at least, without showing or admitting any - and it had been quite a while since it had bothered him, last. And now I wasn't there to force him to take care of it.
"Don't stress," Grace said, suddenly, as if already anticipating the worst that I was about to assume. Instantly, my mind was going to the fact that perhaps if I wasn't off in America, doing something for myself, then maybe I could be back home, looking out for one of the two people who had always looked out for me. "I've got it under control. I'm keeping an eye on it, and I'm gonna keep checking in. I'll take him to the doctor if I need to, and I'll let you know if anything changes," she said, ticking just about every box that I could've prompted her to. I exhaled, trying to push the negative thoughts from my mind. I knew Grace could handle it, and I knew Johnny could handle himself, but I couldn't help worrying nonetheless.
"Izzy, do you really think I'd even tell you if I thought it was something we couldn't handle?" she asked me, and I pressed my lips together, knowing she had a point. "We're fine. Everybody's fine. I promise."
"Thank you, Grace," I told her, watching the smile break out on her face. "You're the best."
"I know."
The door then opened, and I realised I must have been on the phone way longer than I'd planned to be. Harry didn't appear to have noticed me yet, his hand raking casually through his hair as he pressed his back to the door, pulling in his luggage behind him. He then turned around, meeting my eye with a briefly surprised, but instantly genuine grin on his face.
"Oh, there you are," he said, as my eyes flickered between him and my phone. "Is everything okay?" I smiled over at him, sending him a nod, tilting my head towards where my phone was positioned on the table as he clicked the door shut. He followed my gesture, mouthing an 'Oh', in acknowledgement.
"Grace, can I call you back later?" I asked her, daring to bring my eyes back to the screen to find her, just as I'd expected, with her hand clamped over her mouth and her eyes wide in shock at the sound of Harry's voice from my end. She didn't speak for a few seconds, and Harry stopped a few feet ahead of me, tilting his head at me, due to the sustained silence. I bit back a laugh, keeping my eyes on the phone screen, and clearing my throat. "Grace."
"Yeah, of course. Just text me when you have a chance," she replied, calm as ever in her tone, but she squeezed her eyes shut to let me know her real, anything but calm emotion, as I went to end our call. "Love you," she told me.
"I love you too," I laughed, watching her mouth something I couldn't quite make out, before she hung up the phone and my screen went black. I set my phone down, letting out a deep breath before looking up, to see how Harry had been watching me, his lips pressed together in what seemed like an unintentional smile.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were still on the phone," he said, seeming to break out of the brief thought he'd been lost in, as I stood up to meet him. One of his arms then curled around me, gently pulling my body to his own in a way that made my heart flutter.
"Don't be sorry, this is your dressing room," I pointed out. "We were just catching up, I didn't mean to take so long. How was soundcheck?" I asked him, feeling a shiver travel up the length of my spine as his hand drew over the small of my back.
"Decent," he replied, before tilting his head back to let his eyes close. "I think I need a nap, though."
"You're gonna go back to the hotel?"
He shook his head, letting out a dramatic exhale, "No. I have about an hour before I need to do an interview for a local radio station, and then I think the owner of the arena wants me to meet his kids.." he trailed off, opening his eyes again.
"So.. when and where does the nap take place, exactly?" I teased, and he nodded his head to gesture to the couch behind me.
"There.. for the next fifty-nine minutes, roughly."
"I'll leave you to it," I went to draw back from him, to get out of his hair, only for him to wind his arms around my waist a little tighter, pulling me back to him.
"I didn't say that," he leant toward me, nudging his nose against my jaw, causing me to laugh and inadvertently press my body further against his. As I tilted my head, my eyes flickered beyond his frame in front of me to land on the luggage he'd tugged into the room behind him.
"Is that my bag?" I asked him, eyeing the pile of luggage.
"Yeah," he returned, drawing back from me a little and allowing me to step away from him, toward the pile. "You left it out there, I just thought I'd get it out of the way."
"Where's everybody else's stuff?"
"I guess in the band dressing room... or the crew room," he said, and I turned to look at him, pressing my lips together and raising my eyebrows. "What?"
"Then I should probably keep mine with theirs, too," I said, watching him huff playfully. I laughed at his reaction, feeling his arm draw back around me. "It's not exactly subtle if I keep my stuff in here with yours," I pointed out.
"Didn't we agree that they all probably knew anyway?" he asked, squeezing at my waist with his arms. I rolled my eyes at him, ignoring how with every sentence from his mouth, my heart continued to race. He pouted down at my mock annoyance, dipping his head down to inch his lips closer to my own. "Or maybe I'm just playing favourites."
"Mitch isn't your favourite?" I raised an eyebrow, my hands reaching upwards to cup his face.
"He's okay with being a close second," he murmured, smirking playfully down at me. Our lips barely had a chance to ghost over one another's, before my phone started to ring from where I'd set it down on the couch. "Leave it," he groaned, and I only laughed at him, leaning back in to kiss him briefly, but still enough for that spark to be ignited in the pit of my stomach, before I turned back to answer my phone, in fear it may have been important.
"It's Elin," I told him, bringing the phone to my ear, "Hello?"
"Hey, where are you? You disappeared."
"I know, I'm sorry. I had a phone call. Is everything okay?" I asked as Harry let go of me, walking over to the other side of the room to where our bags were. My eyes couldn't help but follow him as he moved away, already aching to feel his arms on me again.
"Yeah, we're going to grab some food. Do you wanna come with?" I hadn't eaten much at all, due to travelling, and I knew I needed some more energy before the show tonight. I caught Harry's eye as he rifled through one of his bags, silently mouthing an invite to him, 'Lunch?'
He shook his head, pointing to the couch behind me to reference the nap he'd said he planned on taking.
"Definitely," I told Elin, "I can meet you out front?"
"Perfect, we'll see you in a minute."
I blew out a deep breath as I hung up the phone, suddenly remembering just how tired I was. I watched Harry pull his hoodie over his head and kick his shoes off, leaving him in just his t-shirt and sweatpants, and I suddenly became awfully envious of the - albeit short - nap that he was about to take. I bit my lip, knowing I ought to go and socialise. I'd spent the weekend alone with Harry, and I wanted to make sure I didn't fall too far out of the loop with the others.
"She's onto you."
I frowned, looking at Harry as he wandered past me to throw himself down onto the couch. "Who, Elin?"
"Yeah. She knows you're with me," he said, an amused grin on his lips, as I continued to frown over at him.
"How would she know that?"
"Because she's Elin," he laughed, as if it was unbelievably obvious. "And you told me she was pretty much already onto it all, even before LA. Also, you're right about the subtlety thing. She definitely saw me dragging your bags around."
"Oh, so I'm getting grilled over lunch. Got it," I sighed, my tone light as Harry peered over at me from his position on the couch, the laziest, most beautiful grin on his lips.
"Hope you've kept up with your acting," he joked, just as he had at breakfast the other day.
"Shouldn't you be napping now?" I asked, and he closed his eyes with a teasing grin.
"Mm, I am," he hummed, "unless you want to keep chatting with me. I'll put it off for you."
I bit back the grin I felt fighting its way onto my lips. I couldn't believe that only days ago, we'd refused to let it be like this. It felt like we'd always been this way; interacting without fear of saying too much, or the wrong thing, or accidentally divulging our real feelings. The fact only days ago he wouldn't have dared to cling onto my waist like he had moments ago, or we both would've been shuffling anxiously in a scenario like this, felt foreign - it felt wrong that we'd denied this, ever.
"What are you gonna say?" he asked, his smile somehow even brighter as it drew me back from where I'd grown lost in thought. "Y'know, when she inevitably asks you?"
"I'll just pretend I've never heard of you," I joked, subconsciously inching nearer to where he lay on the couch.
"Oh, that'll work," he nodded sarcastically, "especially when you do that thing where you start staring into space... daydreaming about me..."
I gasped in mock offence, "About you?" I teased, as I was finally close enough to be in his reach, and he quickly wrapped his hand around my wrist to yank me over to him, causing me to erupt into laughter. "Get off!"
"I thought we were being all open and honest, Iz," he spoke in a tone so rich, as he teased me with such a smug, knowing demeanour that somehow made me laugh but also managed to send a shiver along my spine, simultaneously. "You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" His hands drew over my sides, his fingertips placing slight pressure on me as if to remind me of how he would absolutely torture me into laughter if he had to.
"I have to go," I told him, not really meaning it. I was entirely on top of him, as he lay on his back on the couch, our faces level with one another's. He then pressed his fingers with a tiny bit more force against my ribs - barely noticeable but just enough to cause me to lean into him with a tiny squeal. "Okay, okay," I laughed, exhaling a blissful sigh as one of Harry's hands drew back from my body to extend upwards and tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. "I don't think I should tell them anything yet," I reminded him of the conclusion we'd reached at breakfast the other day.
"I know," he returned, falling quiet for a moment, "I'm messing with you." His expression was still one of amusement, but I caught his eyes softening as he replied, almost flickering in a moment of what seemed like hesitation at my latter sentence. Did he need validation? I wasn't sure I was even capable of doing that. How was I supposed to do that? I could barely give that to myself, let alone somebody else.
This was only the start. I didn't want to mess it up; I knew that if I needed this to work, then I needed to be able to give him, emotionally, what he needed, just like he did for me. Instead of just reading his emotions, I needed to navigate validating, or communicating them. I needed to try - that's how things needed to be different this time. He wanted to know what I'd say about him; about us.
"But, if I did," I told him, catching his expression shift the tiniest bit, as if slightly surprised I was continuing, "and when I do.." I trailed off, searching for the right way to say it, from my mind. "I might have to confess to being a little smitten.." I let my hand smooth over the side of his face, furrowing my eyebrows playfully as I spoke, unable to do anything but relish in the way his smile overtook his features.
"A little?"
"A little."
Honesty felt so refreshing. To watch his face light up, and a smile overtake it, just from my words; just from the truth. If it would always feel like this, maybe I could keep my promise. I could do what I feared so greatly; I could do honesty, if this was it.
"You're losing out on valuable nap time right now," I reminded him, drawing back to create some space between us. He nodded, his lazy grin still undoubtedly plastered across his lips as his hand drew over my arm as I stood up, eventually reaching my hand as I pulled away toward the door.
"Have fun at lunch," he told me, bringing one of the couch pillows into his arms to cradle it against his chest. His eyes didn't leave me, though I could see the exhaustion attempting to pull his eyelids down, and I felt my chest flutter at the way his expression remained after I'd spoken. The fact I could do that for him, like he could for me, was a privilege I decided that I'd never ever dare to misuse.
"Have fun with your interviews," I told him, picking my bag up from the floor to reluctantly take it to the room with the others'. I caught his eyes beginning to close, just as I went to pull the door shut behind me, and I couldn't ignore the way it made my heart race. Even when I let myself lean into it, it was unbelievable, the effect he had on me. I'd never known anybody to stir so much within me, with the smallest, most trivial of actions. I'd meant it; exactly what I'd said. I was truly smitten with him, and I was truly infatuated. It felt good to tell him that.
And he'd been right; it had taken ten minutes, at most, for Elin to mention Harry, at lunch. I sat across from her, and beside Pauli - both Sarah and Mitch had chosen not to join us, I supposed - and Elin waited just enough time to bring him up, but not enough to make it seem like she hadn't been aching to.
We'd received our first lot of drinks, as she turned to me, an incredibly well-acted, thoughtful look upon her face.
"Y'know, I tried to invite Harry to lunch," she said, and I bit my lip back into my mouth, trying to stifle the grin trying to fight its way onto my face at the say things were playing out just as he'd predicted. "I tried calling, but he never picked up."
"He told me he was going to sleep," I told her, leaning back in my chair. She raised an eyebrow.
"You saw him? After soundcheck?" I knew she already knew the answer. I glanced over at Pauli, who was jokingly shaking his head over at Elin.
"Briefly.." I returned, narrowing my eyes at her, which she returned. "You're not subtle at all," I told her.
"Neither are you!" she exclaimed, causing me to laugh. "How was it this weekend?"
"It was fine," I shrugged, choosing not to divulge how giddy I felt just at the thought of him. I thought back to the jokes Pauli and Elin had made before I'd gone to LA - about how Harry had changed since I'd arrived; how they were certain that he wanted me, against everything he'd told me. And they'd been right.
I knew Harry wouldn't mind if I told them - he'd made it pretty clear that it didn't bother him, but I was worried. I knew there was zero bad intention from either Elin, or Pauli, or anybody else here, but it came down to exactly what it always did - I could trust things being in my own hands, and it had taken an unspeakable amount out of me just to try trusting things in Harry's hands; to allow something that I wanted to protect into the hands of others, was scary. Even telling Grace had been something I couldn't do instantly, and though I'd never in a million years expect either of the two people I sat across from to ever do anything malicious to jeopardise anything; it was a habit that would be a little harder to break.
Pauli leaned forward in his chair, just as Elin was about to speak again, interjecting, "Look. Fine, Izzy, you don't have to tell us anything. We can wait until you're ready, but," he paused, holding his finger up, "we have to ask.. for the sake of settling something between Elin and I.."
I buried my face in my hands, groaning, "Please tell me you weren't placing bets again."
"Just a general question..." Pauli trailed off, as Elin also leaned in, and I looked up at them both again, "did the sex take place within the first twenty-four hours, or-"
"Stop!" I exclaimed, causing the two of them to roar with laughter. I could feel my face turning bright red, my hands moving back to cover my face as they laughed. I couldn't help but stifle a laugh of my own, knowing there was nothing unkind in their teasing, but still feeling my face heating all the same. "I hate you, both of you."
"I think that's a yes," Elin raised her hands, leaning back in her seat.
"There was no sex," I told them, which was technically true. I hoped my face didn't look as flushed as it felt - this was also so foreign; to have such a light, joking dialogue about a relationship I was building, because it wasn't toxic, or mentally draining. It was good. I knew there was no use actually trying to hide what was going on between Harry and I, because although they didn't know the details, they almost didn't have to - they were happy to make their jokes, and I was happy to receive them, there wasn't any real pressure.
By the time the show rolled around, it had been hours since I'd last seen Harry. He'd texted me, once, about two hours after I'd left him, to tell me that his interview had concluded. I liked that, too. Receiving updates from him, just because. I'd responded, questioning how his nap was, only for him to respond with a thumbs down. He'd probably gotten a maximum of forty minutes' sleep by the time I'd left, which certainly wouldn't have been enough to gear me up to go and complete interviews, and then meet and greets, in preparation for a two-hour performance that evening, but I supposed that was how he'd almost done it. It wasn't my place to question it.
I didn't see him at all until the very last moment. I'd snapped a few photos of the band, in their matching outfits. They might have been my favourite so far; each of them wearing a variation of a bright pink suit to coordinate with one another.
"Beautiful," I'd remarked, finally satisfied with what felt like the fiftieth shot, as Pauli pulled his decorative sunglasses down his nose. The buzz of the crowd inside the arena was already near deafening, as they sang along to the pre-recorded tracks that played before every show. Somehow, with each and every night that passed, the crowd sounded even louder, and louder in anticipation of Harry's arrival; the screams, the cheers, the singing, just the pure buzz within the atmosphere of the thousands of people, waiting solely for Harry to make an appearance, was enough to send a chill along my spine. If it did that to me, I couldn't imagine what it did to him; because this was all for him.
And there he was. In clicking through the pictures I'd taken of the band moments before, I hadn't even noticed their sudden absence; I assumed they had all headed out to the small section behind the stage, where they'd wait to take their places and the lights had dropped out in the arena, now, signalled by the sudden increase in volume. I looked up at the sound, to see Harry standing in front of me, clad in a black suit, but of course, on him, it had become much more than that. He was lacking a shirt underneath, meaning his entire chest and torso were on display, causing a stir in the very pit of my stomach as my eye immediately dropped to the moth inked upon his abdomen. As he neared me, I noticed how his sleeves were covered in a feather-like material; of course, anything less wouldn't have been extravagant enough. He looked unreal.
"Hi," he murmured, a smile twisting onto his lips. The beginning of his opening track - 'Only Angel' - was pre-recorded, lasting for a few minutes, to both psych the crowd up, and to allow for the band to make their entrance onto the stage. I heard it begin to play, as I met Harry's eye, a glint in it as he joked, "I'm shedding." I glanced briefly at the floor that he'd just walked over, to find loose strands of black material that had landed there from his sleeves.
"It's working for you, though," I teased, resisting the urge to drop my eyes back to trace over his bare skin in front of me, unsure of how I was supposed to maintain my composure whilst watching him like this for well over an hour.
"Shouldn't you be out there already?" he asked me, and I nodded.
"Shouldn't you have been here a little sooner?" I narrowed my eyes, causing him to mimic my expression and narrow his, back at me.
"I barely had ten minutes to shower and get changed," he sighed, and I subconsciously brought my hand upwards to rest on the side of his face, where he immediately tilted his head to lean into my palm. "I can't wait to go to sleep."
Somebody then appeared in the corner of my eye, and I tore my gaze away from where it had been fixed on Harry's face. Harry followed my eyes, lifting his hand from my hand to allow me to bring it back to my side, as we both recognised Mitch, standing across from us.
"Oh, you're both here," he remarked, sending a knowing glance in our direction, that seemed mostly targeted at Harry. Harry shook his head, appearing to bite back a boyish smile at Mitch's clearly deliberate comment. It was nice to see him be tormented about us, for a moment, rather than just me.
"I should probably head out there, actually," I said, taking a hesitant step away from Harry to head towards the front of the stage. I glanced over at Mitch, and then Harry, again. Mitch sent me that knowing smile, yet again, as Harry seemed to reluctantly back away from me, too, for them to both head out to the stage.
Just as I was about to step through, I felt an increasingly familiar arm wind around my waist, pulling me backwards. I spun around, surprised to see Harry's face back in front of me, before he pulled me to him, bringing his lips briefly to meet my own; it lasted a mere couple of seconds, but it immediately took me away from everything else around us - the typical nerves I felt before stepping into a room of thousands of people; before starting my job; before facing Harry in the way I'd come to feel nervous about. Tonight was different - I could be excited; I could enjoy every moment.
I smiled against his lips, before he pulled back from me, searching my eyes for a second as a smile broke out onto his own lips. "Have a good show," I told him, running my thumb over his cheek, before he rushed backwards to where he was supposed to be, and the spot where I supposed Mitch had left through.
"I will, now," he told me, that achingly beautiful grin on his lips as he disappeared out of sight.
I quickly hurried out to where I was supposed to be, around the stage to crouch in front of the main barrier, turning to snap a picture of a group of friends on the front row as they all excitedly awaited Harry's arrival. It was a funny sort of thrill to know they hadn't a clue that I'd kissed him mere seconds before.
I knew it would only be another moment until I saw him again, but I was already buzzing with excitement at the prospect. The fact he'd run back to find me, solely to kiss me before he went on stage, was something that tugged on my chest and gave me child-like butterflies. He was so invigorating, he didn't even know it; this thrill was something I'd never, ever experienced, but it was undoubtedly something I'd love to get used to.
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omg hello I'm just popping in to attach this photo bc i wanted to use a band pic for my main pic but i NEEDED TO GIVE EVERYONE THE OUTFIT VISUAL
also thank u so so much for all the love recently i appreciate it ALWAYS and I love you thank you thank you thank you ahhh