Wildfire - H.S

24

Explaining to Esme the whole situation I have going on with Harry couldn't have gone better.

We were indeed incredibly drunk by the end of the night, it must have been about four in the morning when we had finished fangirling.

And the night even ended with me calling Harry, and talking to him over the phone for what felt like minutes but was actually hours.

I'm very glad to have Esme to talk to about this now, I don't think my mental stability would have lasted much longer if I couldn't ask her advice on these situations.

Harry texted me again earlier and said he'd be stopping by later on for a coffee and he wanted to talk to me about some upcoming event. He didn't elaborate much further than that, and I didn't see the point in prying considering I was seeing him in a few hours.

Except for the few hours I had to get ready to see him, went by very quickly, because I accidently fell asleep as soon as I got home from class. I've just been feeling so much more exhausted than usual recently.

With dance classes, work and trying to see or speak to Harry as often as I can, it's just been eating up all of my energy.

And then on top of that, my coach Katie said she had an opportunity she thought I'd be perfect for. I still need to have a meeting with her about the details, but just the thought of maybe performing professionally makes me giddy with excitement.

"She. She's the first one that I see and I don't know why." I hum softly, tapping my fingers against the side of my pink mug.

"What's that pretty song sweet E?" Esme walks into the kitchen, coming up to me and kissing the top of my head just above the red ribbon tied in place to keep my blonde hair from getting in my face.

"Oh, I don't really know. I've just had it in my head the past couple days. Probably heard it in class or something." I reply, realizing the melody I've been singing is a song I don't remember ever hearing.

There's only a small snippet that replays in my head on a loop. It's really beautiful. I'll need to remind myself to look it up later once Harry's gone.

"Weird." She replies, reaching for one of the blueberry muffins in the glass cake stand.

Esme's always been quite a good cook, and she's always stealing Michael's recipes so she can recreate them at home.

I hate how good they smell because I know I can't have one without having to do an extra thirty minutes cardio.

Too often recently I've been just saying 'screw it' and eat what I want, but it's really starting to show in class with how lethargic I've been feeling.

Even some of my leotards have been feeling a little tighter these past few weeks.

There was a rhythmic knock at the door and I've often noticed Harry always adds a melody to everything he does, whether he realizes it or not. Even the simple things like stirring milk into his tea.